Hellsing Ultimate: The Millennium Campaign
by OKH Halder
Summary: A description of the events before and during the Hellsing series exclusively from the perspective of members of the Millenium Organization.
1. Chapter 1

_For those who read it they can tell my Avatar fan fic is running out of steam, not that I intend to stop, or even slow down. This is my take on Hellsing, and once again I do not own the series, I own only those characters who I create. Unlike my Avatar fan fic, this deviates significantly in some places._ _Since I am lazy I just use an 'e' instead of an umlaut in some places. I ask for forgiveness, my German is appalling._

It was June 1998, and Obersturmfuhrer Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel was just another soldier in 'das letze bataillon.' Just another monster waiting to be unleashed upon the world, a monster with human emotions and a troubled past. Like all of the members of the battalion he was a man with an untold amount of blood on his hands, a fearsome killer who had sold his soul and feared what would happen to him one day. He fulfilled the duties of any officer in his status in any military organization, he along with the 1,000 fighting men who made up said battalion were all volunteers, and discipline was fantastic. However being shut away in South America in the darkness of the forest in the depths of the base, away from sunlight, often, there was not much to do.

So as part of the program the Major had decreed as soon as they had arrived in August 1945, they read books and watched media to keep up to date with the workings of the outside world. The late forties had been depressing and boring except for 'Nineteen Eight Four' which had been a wonderful read. Being detached from the world at large, Friedrich and the others who had read it could not imagine what was happening as a shattered continent attempted to rebuild itself. Indeed the world of _Nineteen Eighty Four_ seemed peaceful compared to the world they have fled.

The Fifties had been full of war films, but the most interesting things came from America and France. He had read the books by George Lefebvre about the French Revolution then. Also there had been from America, many good films, some of which could did fulfil some of the stereotypes German Propaganda had presented about the United States. In many ways the decadence of that culture disgusted him, at other times he liked it, that is when the Americans made fun of it themselves, like in _The Seven Year Itch_ then again Billy Wilder was an Austrian.

The Sixties had been cheerful with all sorts of films with higher budgets, and better scripts. There was such a wealth of media from that decade that he had a hard time listing it all. The movie that sprang to mind varied, but he liked 'Doctor Strangelove' and the books written during that period about the World Wars. He noticed as the decade went on that the movies became darker and less certain of themselves as things started to unravel. Friedrich had been to the United States several times and noticed what had been happening. The New Left was fundamentally different from the Old, in that it was completely useless. It was self gratification and airy fairy nonsense, not about pressing matters such as clean water, providing good public housing or any of the other issues the Old Left had focused on. It had paved the way, he had noticed with alarm, for increasingly reactionary elements within the United States and to infiltrate themselves back into power. Friedrich had shivered as it happened, it reminded him a bit too much of the lost Weimar Republic.

The Seventies had been depressing and the quality of the music had decreased, and everything seemed to be chaotic, with a loss of purpose, a sense of defeat, particularly from Britain and the United States.

The Eighties had been better, better movies, literature, and there had been of course the up-surging Japanese animation industry which produced such shows as 'Mobile Suit Gundam' and had provided him and a few others who were open minded, great entertainment. In fact every year at New Year's he and a few hundred others would all get together to sing "Fly Gundam!" They liked to see themselves as Gundam, against a numerically superior enemy. The irony was that all of them who were fans of the show recognized that Zeon represented them and Imperial Japan. Nevertheless it was a good song. The Eighties had also seen the introduction of video tapes, and music cassettes, so media was now more accessible and easier to store, more personal. However Friedrich had noticed something about the eighties that was incredibly sinister. Americans seemed to take increasingly cruel gratification in killing people, whereas before such practices had been condemned in media as an abhorrent. Considering the impossibility inherent in how these foreigners were killed by so few Americans it disgusted Friedrich, especially since when, even in previous decades when that had happened, the heroes had not lived. Now Americans seemed to be deluding themselves into thinking they were invincible, unstoppable, and indispensible. He hated it, it reminded him too much of what his own country had thought before it destroyed itself.

He stopped thinking about that, and instead starting thinking about going to see the gentlemen of the 'Opera House' as he had been ordered by the Major. He was in effect the liaison between the Major, who commanded the battalion and all of its auxiliary staff in reality, and the four Colonels who liked to believe that they did. He hated them because unlike the Major and most of the men in the battalion, they were Nazis, with all the baggage that went with it. That included racism, cowardice, genocidal tendencies. In other words except for one of the Colonels they were all golden pheasants. Fittingly, the only one who could walk was the Colonel who actually was a frontkampfer, but Friedrich still hated him, because he was friends with the other three. The sort who had screamed at his terrified comrades in the last terrifying days of the war, that they were cowards and traitors. He saw their type, safe, well fed, and plotting as to how to avoid blame for their atrocities, hanging good men from street lamps. On them they dishonoured the brave men with labels such as 'Ich war ein deserteur' or 'Ich liebe die Juden' or 'Ich war ein rote biest.' He knew the Colonel who could still walk, Diesler, had ordered many executions for desertion particularly among the Volksturm and Regular Army for not fighting hard enough. He could never forgive them.

Yet he felt sorry for them. They had wanted to be turned into Vampires, yet the Major forbade it, lying that he had orders from Hitler himself not to do so. He felt sorry for them for even though what they had done, in its entirety, the Holocaust, the brutality of the occupations, to their own people, they were aging. They were watching in frustration every day as they withered and grew old and became more and more conscious of their own mortality. He could empathise with that, and that is why he tolerated them, barely.

At the same time, none of the men of the battalion had covered themselves with glory in the final days of the war, even the Major. The Major had fought along with everyone but they had also assisted in killing many people who need not have been killed, by insisting on fighting and also by killing Russian prisoners who they captured. Friedrich remembered as practically everyone had shut their eyes as they massacred, and the Major had killed with a straight face, which was his way of being sorry.

He walked down the corridors of the headquarters ship 'Deus ex machina' the enlisted men saluting him. He returned their salutes and reflected that he was happy to be here, in a way. He was happy to be with these people, because there was no where else he could be for a variety of reasons. He also felt a tad superior to them, even his superiors such as Obersturmfuhrer Zorin Blitz, he had good reasons though. Part of it was that he recognized in all of them, even the worst, something essentially good, but mostly aspects of his own character he would rather forget.

He did not have time to use his reasons though as consolation as he was now in the part of the ship that housed the four elderly men. When he stepped into their quarters it was strange, it was like entering a museum, a disturbing one at that. In it hung a large Party flag, and an eagle grasping the swastika. Friedrich hated the sight of the bird. To him its expression, posture, and haughtiness symbolized everything that had gone wrong with his country and prevented it from taking its rightful place in the sun. What was also disturbing was the decoration of the place. Whereas the room the Major had was decorated with warmth that made it clear the place was home, with cream colored walls, and light green wallpaper with an elegant pattern, as well as the tea he drank with the hint of lemon and honey in saucers that, like everything else the Major owned had a sober elegance. The walls in this place were bare, and the desks in it, even though expensive and custom made, were so brown as to be black. The men themselves drank their coffee from plain cups and saucers, and ate from silverware stolen from wealthy Jewish families. The photographs on the wall were a treasure trove of records that any Holocaust museum would love to get their hands on. The fact that these men kept pictures of the Ghettos and Death Camps was disturbing, and would have been even in the home of an ardent Nazi hunter. However he knew the only reason these men would keep photos of death was because of sick pleasure they drew from it. The pictures of people starving, their mass graves, being shoved into cattle cars were fond memories for them.

"Sirs" he announced, bringing out the dossier from his armpit and extending it out to whomever may accept it "This is the requisition form for special rations for Christmas this year."

The Colonel who could still walk took it from him, hobbling along with his cane and said "Thank you Obersturmfuhrer, you are dismissed."

Friedrich gave the Sieg Heil salute, and then walked out. He sighed with relief as he did. The next part of his day would be more agreeable, adjusting his glasses he went now to see the Major.

When he got to the Major's quarters he found the Major sitting there as usual, eating cheese, apples, and Matzo crackers (which were there deliberately to annoy the Opera House group), and sipping coffee, that was seventy percent coffee, thirty percent milk. As he entered the Major smiled at him, not the half smile he always wore, as a result of discovering his love for war more than half a century ago, but a warm friendly smile. "Ah Obersturmfuhrer, please sit down, and have some coffee with me."

"Thank you sir" said Friedrich and sat down. This was a daily ritual with the things they ate and drank being varied every so often. The Major's smile faded back to his half smile. Until now the meetings had been mundane, discussing how discipline was, how the Opera House was, how some of Friedrich's media gathering expeditions had gone. It could be boring, but it was reassuringly banal, it reminded Friedrich Craebel of his home country, which he only saw when gathering media. It also was a comfortably human eating activity, as opposed what he had to do now and that was to drink blood to get true nutrition. He picked up his coffee, which whenever he came was how he liked it, hot, but not burning, and being thirty percent milk. It tasted good, its creamy, soft yet hard texture going easily down his throat, like good white wine. He could do this as unlike the other soldiers he could consume limited amounts of normal food and drink without coughing it all up.

The Major sipped his coffee and said "It is time we began speaking about war, Obersturmfuhrer, and not in the abstract as we have for fifty three years but actually about going to war. I speak of course about Operation Sealion 2, of which you and I are aware of the broad objectives, but we have yet to actually formulate the final attack plan."

"Sir, are you sure you want to do this? Now?" asked Friedrich. He was not surprised, not in the least. If anything he was relieved and excited. They could all relive that glorious endless war, when they had seemed to be quixotically taking on the world and...Friedrich suddenly felt ashamed of himself for thinking those thoughts but they were hard to resist.

"Yes I am perfectly sure Obersturmfuhrer. I am sure as we have waited long enough, amassing the appropriate number of soldiers, munitions of war, scouting out London decade by decade, gathering media and literature so we are aware of the outside world and its progress. Now is the time to finally use all that knowledge in the pleasurable act of war. So I will not require you to go on another scouting expedition of London, or gathering more media. I instead require you to draw up a plan of attack, on Hellsing manor, and the instigation of paranormal incidents within Britain, to test the fighting strength of the enemy. You will submit the plan to me for approval when you are finished. If I am satisfied, then you will be allowed to set it in motion."

Friedrich interrupted having just finished a slice of apple. "Sir, I am not a staff officer. I never attended the Kriegsakademie. I am not sure that the plan will be of sufficient quality."

He bit down and chewed on a matzo cracker as the Major chuckled. "Obersturmfuhrer, you have spent the last fifty years reading almost nothing but military literature and it is of your own choosing. You are the closest thing I have to a staff officer, that is why I have asked you." Friedrich swallowed the cracker, and inserted some cheese into his mouth as the Major went on. "You shall not be alone. You shall draw up this plan with Obersturmfuhrer Blitz and the Valentine Brothers. The Captain will supervise you."

Friedrich swallowed nervously "Sir, the Valentine brothers? They sir are not qualified military personnel. Obersturmfuhrer Blitz and I do not get along."

The Major chuckled again "Yes I know it will be amusing to watch you two argue. In addition to attacking Hellsing manor as I have mentioned, before we even attack I want you to organise a series of incidents designed to test the fighting power of the Hellsing organization. Those who we use are expected to die, but that is perfectly acceptable. You are one of the few people on this base who could safely organise that and not look too conspicuous. I think you now see why I included the Valentine brothers."

Friedrich smiled "Yes, expendable scum who have betrayed their country. I will use them accordingly Sturmbannfuhrer." He swallowed some more coffee.

"Excellent so, plan a few incidents, but not too many, and a probing attack on Hellsing manor, without getting any of our men killed. We want to draw out Alucard and see just how strong he is, so we may know what must be done. You are also responsible for enlisting the help of the Vampires, and implanting them with the chips, so that we have the necessary data, without having to risk anybody. I look forward to seeing two opposite personalities clash, in you and Zorin, Obersturmfuhrer. Someone with your ideology paired with her, will be so amusing." This time the coffee went down nervously. Friedrich was always disturbed by the fact that the Major had discovered his secret, and the way that secret had been used it against him. "Anyway once you have finished I want you to get on with this task straight away, your unique ability is needed, so you will have to do some travelling, just inform me when that is necessary and I will arrange it."

Friedrich finished his coffee, then stood up. The Major said "Do not worry Friedrich I have every confidence you can do this, given your ideas and where you are now, I would say that determination is needed. I would not worry too much about Blitz, she may argue, but she will listen."

Friedrich gave the Major the Regular Army salute, and the other man returned it. As Friedrich left to go find Blitz, and he knew where to find her, he thought about how that salute was the only sign, even amongst themselves of their friendship. "Do this for me Obersturmfuhrer and I will explain to you my reasons for this war, and I think you will approve, but only if you do this."

"I will be done Sturmbannfuhrer, I promise you."


	2. Chapter 2

_Millennium part 2 _

Obersturmfuhrer Friedrich Craebel having been in the Millenium base on and off for fifty three years, had gotten to know all the major characters on the base well. The one he was least likely to want to spend another fifty with, besides the monsters of the Opera house, was Sturmfuhrer Zorin Blitz. He knew where to find her though, the gym, where else?

He suspected that he had an odd relationship with her. She was constantly haranguing him for being weak, a human, one who never ate, but only drank, and only from blood packs, or if the target was dead. She spat at him that she remembered him in battle. Weak, frightened, saying that the war was lost, and he had said that on April 20th 1945, but it had not been the first time he had said it. He knew she would have killed him immediately if she knew either of his two secrets. Both were treasonous, if you went by the laws of the 3rd Reich. He however was guided by German patriotism and had detested the 3rd Reich before the usurper had had the gall to declare himself the Fuhrer of a new Reich. He detested the 3rd Reich of Adolf Hitler and his Nazi Party.

He had been there as part of the crowd in 1938 at Nuremberg, a newly minted SS officer, having voluntarily transferred from the Army, when he saw her for the first time. She was still a muscled freak then, and had short hair. With the size of certain things, she was unquestionably a woman, but she was still a freak. She did not have the tattoos on her face then. As Hitler had roared that they would conquer the world, after the annexation of Austria. He had observed in disgust as the giant orgasmic "Heil!" rose from the women, and the men shouted "Heil!" with blind stupidity. The rally had made him all the more determined to destroy the 3rd Reich. It was also the year he had met the Major, then an Obersturmfuhrer, he being a mere young man, not quite sure, anymore what to do with his life.

What was odd about the relationship is that she obsessed about it, and in battle had used every opportunity she could to rescue him, so she could say he was weak. She also made a point of finding him whenever she could, if she knew they were in the same battle, to team up with him and show the superiority of her approach to war. As the Major had chuckled one day during the Battle of the Ardennes "Her approach to war is to shorten it, by being reckless with her resources." It would seem to suggest she had a hidden crush on him. He hated that idea, because it appealed to him in some stupid way, the idea of enemies reconciled through love and that there was a good person within her. It was hopelessly dreamy-eyed, but it appealed to him, so he focused on how much he hated her ideology to control that thought. In any case the man she obviously wanted was the Hauptsturmfuhrer, the man who would be observing their planning.

He pushed open the door, it was daytime, which was not waking time for vampires, she always did this so she could be alone and did not appreciate being interrupted. He felt a sense of superiority to her immediately as he saw her. She was dressed in the tank top, and exercise shorts she always wore for her gym periods. She poured sweat as she lifted huge weights, and her tattoos moved with her grunts. She was enjoying the exertions and had a maniacal look in her eye. Even though she was a woman, the word to describe her would be cocksure. He on the other hand, in his well looked after Feldgrau uniform, projected an air of sober elegance. He treated her with as little respect as he possibly could, she was his superior, but he was also an old trusted comrade of the Major, so he could get away with it. He did not salute and said "Blitz, we are to plan together with the Valentine brothers a series of incidents, within the next year, in Great Britain, so that we may test the fighting power of the Royal order of Protestant Knights, Hellsing."

"Really?" she asked sarcastically, still grunting as she lifted weights, doing them quicker now, as if to impress him "Are these orders? Or is it just a sudden bit of inspiration you had?"

He was not phased by her comments, but started to feel uncomfortable as she looked at him with a sensual sadism. He hated it because he had seen that look countless times in war before she had killed enemy prisoners. Always she had worn that look for those who refused to beg or who were attractive in some way, she enjoyed toying with them. For the freak, it was her idea of flirting. That was more than enough to make him shiver. She grinned at his discomfort.

His expression became sourer as he attempted to compensate for his memories "These are orders from the Major, I came to you to discuss when we are going to do this planning, Blitz" he said coldly.

She set down, the weights, and growled softly, then looked back up at him keeping her strange smile, and did not advance. "I think you're lying Craebel there is no way the Major would have the Valentine Brothers participate in such a thing."

She was getting into aggressive mode, and Friedrich hated it when she was aggressive. He decided to continue on "Are you questioning the orders of the Major, Blitz?"

"No" she said "I am questioning you, and I will report you to the Major for this insubordination."

"In which case you will look like a fool and you would not want that to happen would you?" he asked keeping his emotionless voice.

"Well, you are being certain, which means it must be true, if you were lying you would be running right now, as you did so many times during the war. It is because of cowards like you that we are here, Craebel."

"It is not your place to judge my war record" he grabbed the Iron cross on his uniform, "You see this?" he now became angry "Don't you dare use that tone of voice with me Blitz." He now regained his composure "In any case it would hardly do for two German officers to argue in front of a pair of criminals like the Valentine Brothers. The Hauptsturmfuhrer would be most displeased I should imagine if he saw the both of us arguing while making our plans."

He face immediately brightened, her eyes widening. "The Hauptsturmfuhrer will be there?" she asked eagerly.

"Yes" he said, trying to hide his amusement.

She had just noticed how girly she had been, and went back to her sensual sadism. Friedrich just noticed that his hands had become fists, and he only now uncurled them. "Ah good, he will be sure to stop you from making a half hearted, overly cautious plan, Craebel."

He ignored her "We are free to use any area of the ship we wish to plan these operations. What place would you like to have , Blitz?"

"Well since the Valentine brothers are going to be with us, we cannot use the command room." She pondered the issue in her mind before smirking, meaning she had an idea "Why don't we use the Kapitaen's quarters on the _Deus Ex Machina_?" She did not let him answer "Yes we will use that, it is large enough, yet it won't let those idiot brothers see anything. Yes it is perfect."

"Very well then Blitz we shall do that. I will go inform the Brothers and the Hauptsturmfuhrer of this, as well as making sure we have the necessary equipment."

"Yes you go do that, rear echelon work always was your comfort zone. Now I must keep in fitness, like a true frontkampfer" she sneered and went back to her exercises. Friedrich gave her the international finger as a salute and walked out, hearing a snort of contempt from the freak. Once outside, he permitted himself an animal growl of anger. Well if she tried to shame him, he had ways of making the situation awkward for her. He wondered now if he should go to the silent Hauptsturmfuhrer or the two criminals, either way he was not going to like it. He decided to visit the Hauptsturmfuhrer first to get the awkwardness over and done with.

He hated how the Hauptsturmfuhrer so rarely spoke. Friedrich was terrified of him. His strength was incredible, and he was the sort who let actions do the talking for him, he was the living embodiment of that mentality. Thus one did not have any warning when he was about to strike. Friedrich was always afraid that one day he would be killed by the Hauptsturmfuhrer without knowing what he had done to finally make the Hauptsturmfuhrer hate him enough. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had plenty of reasons to hate Friedrich Wilhlem Craebel.

He walked down the corridors, glad that no one was in them as he would not have to salute people he despised. He both liked and despised almost all the personnel except for the members of his own platoon who the Major had given him command of deliberately. Craebel's platoon was made up of former regular Army soldiers, men, who, unlike him did not have the shame of an SS brand. All had been forced into the SS, mostly because the SS needed to maintain youth and good looks where no one else had to. They had come against their will. All however, like him, had fallen under the spell of the Major. They were a good lot. Probably because they were, he reflected bitterly, more interested in the experience of camaraderie, of the war itself, than the killing. Although, the killing that had sometimes been...

These unpleasant thoughts were driven out of his mind when he reached the Hauptsturmfuhrer's quarters. He knew better than to enter uninvited. The Hauptsturmfuhrer, who almost never spoke, had never made this clear, but it was a feeling that one got. He knocked. He waited. He almost jumped and ran away as the door opened and the Hauptsturmfuhrer stood there, his handsome face half hidden by the upturned collars of his greatcoat, standing nearly 30cm taller than Friedrich. He tried to look calm but knew there must be a hint of panic on his face. The Hauptsturmfuhrer nodded, and then went back into his room.

Friedrich was surprised at how well lit the Hauptsturmfuhrer's room was. He had never been there in all his fifty three years on the _Deus Ex Machina_, having avoided it like the plague. He was not surprised by how Spartan the room was. It had an army bed, some exercise equipment, a closet and chest of drawers for his clothing, and a non descript desk with a plastic chair for himself, and another for guests. The Hauptsturmfuhrer nodded to the other chair, and sat himself behind his desk. Since the Hauptsturmfuhrer was the Major bodyguard Friedrich wondered why on Earth he would ever need a desk. It was hard to imagine, say Zorin Blitz, storming in and saying that she fancied him and that they should get a party started, and the Hauptsturmfuhrer looking up fountain pen in hand a stressed look on his face. He would then say "Obersturmfuhrer, this is no time for hanky-panky I am absolutely swamped here, I mean I need to get these forms for new ammunition to the Major in an hour, and if I don't Rip van Winkle will come in here and torture me with an act of Der Freischutz, and Sturmfuhrer Zeitzler (the battalion accountant) will harangue for twenty minutes about wasting money; so please I am flattered but I just don't have time!" Somehow he just could not see the Hauptsturmfuhrer as a bureaucrat, much less saying all those words.

He sat down, swallowed and then said "Sir, the Major has ordered myself, Obersturmfuhrer Blitz, and the Valentine Brothers to draw up a plan of action of launching discreet probing attacks to test the fighting power of Hellsing."

The Hauptsturmfuhrer nodded, keeping that same intense look on his face which always terrorized Friedrich when he saw it, for you could never tell if he was about to strike. Friedrich took it as an indication to go on. "Sir, by order of the Major you are to supervise us, and provide where needed any input. When we are done we are to submit the plan to the Major for approval."

The Hauptsturmfuhrer nodded, and pointed to the door, which Friedrich took to mean he had to leave now. He stood up and did a sieg heil salute, then left without saying goodbye. Doing that would have just been too awkward.

Once outside, he exhaled, and leaned against the wall for support. That had been nerve racking, the Hauptsturmfuhrer was a chilling figure, never speaking, and he had seen him silently massacre American prisoners at Malmedy. It was something he preferred to forget. When he thought about it what stuck in his mind was, those Americans, shivering, frightened, some wounded, before the expressionless face of the Hauptsturmfuhrer, who toted an MG34 as his personal weapon. Craebel had watched, the cold not affecting him, as the Hauptsturmfuhrer without any physical indication of malice towards those men, machine gunned them down. Having been in Warsaw in 1944, he knew this would not work, but he had shouted "No! Stop!" He had pulled out his pistol, aimed it at the Hauptsturmfuhrer and emptied it straight into his head. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had not been fazed by this but had simply regenerated and finished his bloody work, the supernatural events having frozen the Americans in place instead of compelling them to run.

Friedrich had expected to be ripped in half by the Hauptsturmfuhrer. He had been quaking in terror, the men around him shocked. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had reloaded, turned to face him, shook his head, then walked away. "It is more than unfortunate" the Major had said sadly "However the Hauptsturmfuhrer is more valuable to us than any principles."

"Why did he do that?" Friedrich had asked in 1965, to the Major.

The Major had half smiled, as he always did when talking about war "He thought they would slow down our advance, he did not want to waste time. It was fun seeing the looks on their faces" he had exclaimed "as we mowed them all down!" Indeed the other Americans had been finished off by Friedrich, the Major and the other SS soldiers. He always felt self loathing and joy as he remembered, that yes, yes, it had been fun. He had had fun killing those Americans, and had smirked in the exact same way as the Major. His eyes had blazed with happiness and delight. It was a pleasure like eating a good meal, it was refreshing, he felt better having done! No he had loved it, every moment, every instant his finger had squeezed the trigger. Suddenly he was killing the hated Amis, the overconfident, insolent people who dared to make a caricature out of himself and his country! The people who had helped bomb the cities of his country! Yes! Kill! Kill! He had shouted within himself.

Then a few hours later had come the guilt, the self-loathing, even suicidal impulses. He thought about those men, scared, shivering, not wanting to die and not even wanting to kill. All but the most egregious of killers would sometimes confess to him "Sometimes I don't aim at them. Sometimes I hope I miss, is that natural?" Having massacred prisoners he had shed his humanity, but by then Friedrich was no longer a human.

"You contemptible piece of shit!" he spat at himself. He sighed once again and then marched off to find the Valentine brothers. He found them together in their room, the brothers, he was not even sure if he could call them brothers. Both were tall and athletic and at certain times extraordinarily handsome, at others impossibly nondescript. There the similarities ended. One was dressed in a white summer suit exactly like the Major, and carried a sword, and could be found fencing or reading a book. His brother, if indeed he was his brother, dressed in tracksuits, had piercings on his body, and could be found listening to rap music, and had some less than reputable things to watch and look at. He had walked in uninvited as a sign of his contempt. The one who acted like the scum he was, had black hair, the other blond hair, it was as if he was trying to ape the Major. "Gentlemen!" Craebel called out, causing both to turn their heads to him. His diaphragm moved up a bit as he laughed to himself about the irony of saying 'Gentlemen'. One brother certainly was no gentleman. "You are both to report to the Kapitaen's quarters on _Deus Ex Machina_ tomorrow without fail, at 2200 hours. We are going to plan a series of incidents to test out the anti-paranormal capabilities of England, and possibly the Vatican. Is this understood Gentlemen?"

"Yes Obersturmbannfuhrer" said one, and went back to reading his book.

The other laughed, clapped and began dancing round the room. He made weird motions which Friedrich interpreted to be part of his ridiculous dance routine and began singing, in a very bad voice. "Let's get some action let's get some partying in here!" Just as Friedrich turned to leave he heard a snigger from the weird one. He turned and looked, Jan was pointing at him and he winked "thanks for the good news man."

Craebel left the room before the urge to kill Jan Valentine overpowered him.


	3. Chapter 3

_Millenium part 3_

Obersturmfuhrer Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel was stubborn. He slept in an army bed, he even ate regular food each day. He refused to suck blood from a living person, unless they were a truly despicable person, and would never eat a person. He refused to admit that he was a vampire. He knew he was a vampire, but he would not allow Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel to be lost to a monster. He may have been a vampire, but he always told himself that did not stop him from being human. "Ich bin ein offizier, nicht ein biest!" He shouted as he woke up from a nightmare. He woke up alone, in his quarters. He looked at his bedside clock, it was not time for the briefing, it was only 0400 hours. He had to be on duty in another six. He was officer of the watch everyday, by order of the Major for a good reason.

He glanced over at his coffin. He supposed a human could sleep in one, he never went into it though without a pillow and only when he had nightmares. He was a dysfunctional sort of person, still grasping at an innocence he had never really had. He still had a teddy bear, which he used only when sleeping in his coffin, as if by doing this, he would say to anyone, who came in 'you see I'm still human, I'm not a monster. I'm a good person really, you just need to get to know me.' He hated his childish behaviour, but if he did not behave like that, he would never sleep in his coffin and he would have nightmares, as he did every night. He grabbed his teddy bear, it was a Winnie the Pooh one, not the new Disney sort, which was okay, but the older sort. He took his pillow stuffed it in at the head of the Coffin, set his alarm clock to wake him up in four hours. He clambered into the coffin, setting down Winnie as he pulled the cover over him tight, then cradled the bear. As he faded into sleep he sang an old nursery song, which always brought tears to his eyes, and cried himself to sleep. Blitz was right, he was a weakling, a coward full of self denial and false piety.

The war had revealed his true nature. He moralized, he admonished and scolded men and women like Zorin Blitz. Occassionally he had stood up to higher ranking officers, but usually he had simply watched as his countrymen had committed untold crimes. He had even participated and suddenly when he did, he discovered he loved killing. He liked watch the blood come out from them in puffs of steam and streams of blood. When he killed someone, he felt powerful, like nobody was his master but himself. He loved it, even when his victims were defenceless and begging him for mercy. He loved it because in them, somehow, he never saw himself, he always saw those had tormented him, the people who had overthrown his world and his Republic. He saw them begging for mercy, not people who he, usually had nothing against personally. Even though he never visualized pleading SA men, he shot his victims down as if they were. His favourite to kill had been the British, and Russian snipers.

He awoke to the alarm. He hurriedly clambered out of his coffin, and hid the bear, then shut off the alarm. He sat back down on his bed feeling ill. It had been eight days since he had drank blood. All the men had at least one blood pack per day, and with Christmas approaching a bunch of poor farmers from some hopeless part of the world, promised a better life, would be offered as their dinner, the corpses being devoured and blood being drunk to the cheers of 'Prosit Neujahr' sickened him. It sickened him because of the ripping apart of human bodies by monsters which were so very nearly human that it was just like cannibalism. It also sickened him because he had to control his blood lust and in some instances, in his past, he had not. But those times had been extraordinary, such as when...

He pushed the thoughts out of his head. He got dressed into some sports clothes. He ran out of the base. He was going to go hunting, and he knew what he would have, snake. Nobody would miss them, or care, and they were monsters, so nobody could object. It did not take long to find a nest of them, he could, using his vampiric vision both see and detect them, he had learned over fifty years how to do it. He did not care what type they were but he devoured the whole nest, and destroyed the eggs. He was back in under an hour. He put the dirty, bloodstained clothes in the laundry and then showered. Finally he had got changed into his uniform to observe his solitary watch over the airships along with Warrant Officer Schrödinger.

He disliked the thing, for he doubted if it was ever a boy. He wondered if he was just protein, and from this protein the Doc had created possibility in the form of a boy. He had to climb a giant ladder to get onto the top side of the base to assume his position of watch. He had brought a book with him to read. It was about the Battle of Berlin, and he regretted that he, and the other members of the battalion, almost all of whom had been there, could not give their 1,400 strong testimony to historians about their experiences. When he reached the top, he was confronted by a smirking blond boy with cat ears "Once again Obersturmfuhrer, I beat you."

Schrodinger had made the mistake of being too close. Friedrich kicked him where it hurt, he was still a boy after all. He whimpered and collapsed in pain, writhing. "Good morning to you to Warrant Officer" Friedrich said ever so agreeably.

"Damnit!" squealed Schrodinger, "that never occurred to me. I thought you'd just shoot me!"

Friedrich laughed maniacally. "Ah, got you good this time Schrodinger." He began to read his book. He focused well after reading twenty pages, then stopped and thought about the ways he had gotten on with Schrodinger. In the beginning, he had been annoyed by the Cat boy, who appeared in his mind when he was bored, and began digging through his memory, and he could not get rid of him. After 10 years of this he had gone to the Major complaining about this. The Major had laughed and said "Schrodinger is invaluable to us, so we must tolerate him, it is all part of the ultimate plan Obersturmfuhrer, don't you worry, in time I will tell you." That had been 43 years ago, and Friedrich was wondering when he would be told how Schrodinger fit in to the plan. He could see superficially why he was important, the boy's ability to be everywhere and nowhere was certainly useful, but something told him the Major had a use for Schrodinger, far beyond the obvious shallow reasons, it was always like that with the Major.

The shallow and the deep reasons were there, and the enemy never knew of his exact plan until too late. That was why he had always won on the battlefield, and unlike most SS commanders, kept his casualties extremely low. He could have been a General before he was 30, but the Fuhrer had other ideas for him. The Major was also a member of the exclusive Thule Society and extremely well versed in the occult. Friedrich had, when he first heard of their reassignment, laughed with contempt at his commanding officer. "You cannot be serious? You must be joking sir! You! I cannot believe this! An occultist!"

The Major had chuckled and gently shook his head, still refusing to punish his subordinate. "I understand your concerns Obersturmfuhrer, believe me and do not worry, most of the Occult is nonsense. The idea that a man can use spells? Ridiculous, it has no basis in reality, and men have tried. The Nordic gods we all revere? A myth, a legend, but not everything is, no some things are far beyond what most people would imagine to be at all possible. Tell me Obersturmfuhrer, have you ever read Bram Stoker's _Dracula_?"

He returned his thoughts to Schrodinger. In 1956 he had lost his temper, and shot Schrodinger in the arm. He had bled, but laughed and disappeared, reappearing a few moments later before Friedrich completely unhurt, and told him not to be naughty.

That had also been his first true encounter with untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler, the battalion accountant, who was OCD about efficiency and waste. "Obersturmfuhrer, you may be of a higher rank, but you cannot be so stupid! Bullets cost money! You are wasting the battalion's money! You just cost us 3 cents, do you hear, 3 cents (all liquid battalion assets having been converted into money). We cannot afford such wastage or we will have no money left for the war!" he had screamed. Zeitzler always looked stressed and sweaty.

"Why exactly do you bring that maniac here sir?" he had asked the Major over caviar. The occasion was Britain losing its status as a world power because of the Suez crisis.

"Well" said the Major eating a bellini filled with beluga caviar, imported from the Soviet Union, "you may well ask the same question about yourself Obersturmfuhrer, considering your past, and what you believe. I would say all of us are strange here, even by SS standards. I chose who was to come based on competence and loyalty, that is why Zeitzler is here, and he does a very good job." He raised a glass of good French white wine "Here is to the downfall of an old enemy; Prosit!"

"Prosit!" Friedrich had exclaimed eagerly in return, raising his glass. A combination of events meant that Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel had a genuine dislike for the British.

The second time he had lost his temper with Schrodinger was when he made lecherous comments about Rip van Winkle. The fact that the Cat boy had sexual fantasies was no surprise, but Friedrich did not want to know about them. They varied from Schrodinger doing her, to the Hauptsturmfuhrer, and finally what made him lose his temper was when Schrodinger began talking about him, as in Friedrich doing it. "Two nerds making love, sooo hot!" Schrodinger had said lustfully. That time he had shot Schrodinger in the face.

Zeitzler had been on his case again "Have you lost your mind? We already waste an appalling amount of money on target practice, and there you go again wasting bullets! I don't know if you know this Obersturmfuhrer but our monetary supplies shrink, never grow, our swiss bank account, does not compensate for our losses! Every year despite everything I do, we waste $10,000! Yes 10,000! We are in the red by $10,000. This is unacceptable, and a responsible officer like yourself should be setting an example! That was another 3 cents!"

When he had lost his temper a third time in 1980 with Schrodinger, he had decided to avoid a Zeitzler lecture by using his vampiric strength to kick Schrodinger straight off the airship. "Some people have no sense of humour" cat boy had complained later.

His duties were over at three o'clock when Rip van Winkle took over. He went to have tea with the Major where it was foie gras, fresh baked bread, baked by the Major no less, and salad for lunch. It was excellent, the perfect way to eat before attending the sure to be disagreeable staff conference. "Obersturmfuhrer from now on you are no longer officer of the watch by day, you now assume full responsibilities for the planning. In effect you are my chief of staff."

To be called that was a great honor "Thank you Major" he said putting some bread with foie gras spread over it, in his mouth.

"You are welcome Obersturmfuhrer. You may inform Blitz that she is to listen to you, and it is ultimately you who will submit the plan of action to me. The Captain will be there to keep her and the two brothers in line, are we clear on this?" he asked.

"Yes sir" he said happily.

"Ah good, then let us discuss this and that for the rest of this meal."

"This and that Major?"

"Yes, like March 1943."

The Major had laughed at the look of obvious discomfort in Friedrich face as his hands went limp.

The planning meeting promised to be far less lovely. He had gotten there early, trying to impress just that bit. The Haputsturmfuhrer was already there, as was stationary, a map of England, a map of London, and the county in which Hellsing Manor was situated, as well as a large locked briefcase. Friedrich had already decided that except for the attack on Hellsing, he wanted to keep the incidents within England far from London, so there would not be any publicity, or warning for the attack.

Blitz, and the Valentine brothers arrived together. She nodded at him, and smiled in a half suggestive manner at the Hauptsturmfuhrer. "Blitz, the two Mr. Valentines, Hauptsturmfuhrer. Welcome, let us begin."

"By doing what Mr. Genius?" asked Jan.

The three officers in the room shot him a look that froze the chav. A dumb noise escaped his mouth. His brother covered for him "I am sorry sirs, my brother can be a bit strange at times" he said calmly.

Out of the two brothers, the blond one, whatever his name was, was the one who Friedrich could just about tolerate. What annoyed him is that his hair was far too long. That was the one thing the other Valentine had gotten right in his appearance, his relatively short hair. "Just for ten seconds alone with that guy and a pair of scissors" muttered Friedrich bitterly to himself. He spoke louder this time "That is alright, but I do not want a repeat. Firstly there is one rule that has to be followed here. Except for the eventual probe against Hellsing, how we do that is up to us, there are to be no attacks close to London. We do not want the British to be too alerted, or the public to know. Is this clear?"

Blitz gave a sieg heil salute and said in her slow, contemptuous voice "Yes my Fuhrer, as you say my Marshal" she said ironically. Friedrich scowled, however he understood that she agreed, she just wanted to continue this annoying little game.

"Other than that I am open to suggestions. Hauptsturmfuhrer?" he asked that almost as a joke. The man remained silent "Very well then, we shall proceed, first, how exactly are we to instigate appropriate incidents without using anyone in this room or in this organization?" There was silence, and people looking at each other. The Hauptsturmfuhrer said nothing. Friedrich decided to make his suggestion, since the final piece which was not as nebulous an objective was the only part he had thought about, "well whatever we do, I think that the Valentine brothers should be in the attack on Hellsing Manor, but once again, other than those two, we should not use anyone in this organization in the attack." He did not reveal why exactly the Major had chosen those two.

"Why the hell do we have to do that man?" asked the black haired one.

Friedrich was irritated and decided to hide his expendable cannon fodder reason. "Because I and the Major would like to have someone from this organization, who knows what the hell they are supposed to be doing, and will thus fulfil their objectives, and are more trustworthy than outsiders" he said firmly but calmly.

The black haired one, was his name Jan?, shrugged. The blond one nodded, keeping silent. Blitz tilted her head, and her face seemed to suggest she agreed with him. He knew better than to enquire with the Hauptsturmfuhrer. Blitz raised a question "How is it we will probe Hellsing with the brothers and succeed without doing at least an outside reconnaissance first?" she asked impertinently.

Friedrich chuckled in a deliberately sinister fashion. Blitz looked puzzled, she was so rarely unnerved. The other two brothers looked puzzled. He was slightly frustrated that no one ever reacted to his knowing chuckles the way they did to the Major's. "Oh" he said smiling broadly "I, the Major and the Hauptsturmfuhrer know everything there is to know about Hellsing Manor. We will issue the relevant instructions and information only when it is needed."

Blitz became angry "Don't say that, you little worm. You do not speak for the Major!"

Friedrich smirked "That is why I am here Blitz, the Hauptsturmfuhrer may be in charge, but since I have not heard him speak since 1945, I speak for the Major. I am his voice, when his is not present."

"How could you possibly know this, you're bluffing" she insisted angrily. The black haired one, from now on Friedrich decided he would be stupid one, was eyeing Blitz up and down. Friedrich sneered with disgust, he would probably do anything with a hole. At the same time, Blitz was, there was no denying this, a woman. Not a particularly feminine one, but still a woman. The other one, Mr. Apathy, looked disinterested. The Hauptsturmfuhrer said nothing.

Friedrich resumed his smirk as he regarded Blitz again "The Major tells me these things Blitz. We are old comrades the Major and I. We've known each other since before the war, but you know this. I know, along with the Major and the other members of his inner circle, all there is to know about the Hellsing organization and the lair in which it resides. You and the brothers need not worry until you have need of this information."

She fell silent. She seemed to realize that he was telling the truth, and it was clear she was only slightly unnerved by knowing that Friedrich was trusted more by the Major than she. To even slightly unnerve her was big feat. He remembered none too fondly how unconcerned she had been at the 3rd battle of Kharkov, how she had suggested General Hausser was a traitor and should be shot for disobeying the Fuhrer's orders to hold to the last. The Major, the Hauptsturmfuhrer, and he had all taken their turns in trying to stop her. Friedrich had tried demonstrating how it made tactical sense for them to withdraw. She had punched him in the stomach, winding him, and telling him he was yet again showing weakness by arguing that. The Fuhrer knew best. The Hauptsturmfuhrer simply blocked her way, but she still would not give up. The Major tried to persuade her that Hausser would be punished and she should not get herself killed by going over the chain of command and killing a General. That had nearly persuaded her, but in the gangster fashion that characterized all Nazis, she saw killing the General as an opportunity to be promoted.

"What do we do now sir?" Friedrich had asked. Both men had the lower halves of their faces concealed by woollen scarves and hatched face hoods. Both were wearing helmets, and ear wrapping. Even in winter uniform, they were shivering.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures" the Major sighed, then chuckled. "Hauptsturmfuhrer, you know what you have to do."

With that the Major and Friedrich had observed as the Hauptsturmfuhrer had zoomed over to Blitz, lowered his face mask and hers, kissed her and said "Please don't do this" then had come back over to them. Blitz had gone away, back to her unit. Friedrich could tell she was giggling like a silly teenage girl. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had put his face mask back on and nodded.

"That was...unconventional" had been Friedrich's remark.

The Major had chuckled and said "Speaking of unconventional we have another job to do. This comes directly from the Fuhrer, we need to find a base of operations for the Doctor's experiments, in Warsaw."

He waited for people to offer suggestions as he struggled to think of them himself. "How about hiring some new talent?" the blond one offered quietly.

"Which means what exactly bro?" said black haired one.

"We go around England looking for vampires who will do our dirty business for us, without knowing what we are doing, and why we are doing it. We all have the chips" said blond one, well what he had said was not true, Friedrich did not have one in him "we can implant it in them, and tell them it makes them stronger and allows us to give them advice."

"An excellent idea" said Friedrich. "Now let us discuss where we can search for these vampires."

"That is going to take a lot of work" said Blitz acidly.

Friedrich smirked "No it will not." He took out a key, grabbed the large briefcase on the table, used the key to open it and displayed its contents proudly. It was a large bound set of papers. He opened the set of papers to about the middle for everyone to read. It was a set of names and addresses and background information.

"Is this what I think it is?" Blitz asked.

"That it is, it is the address book of every vampire in the whole world and human candidates who are easily corruptible. We have spent a long time gathering it" said Friedrich.

The dark haired Valentine brother and Blitz both gave a disbelieving stare "I don't even want to know how you did that" Jan had said.

"In point of fact I cannot tell you how we got a lot of these names, sufficed to say" his voice became quieter as he pondered the enormity of what he was saying "fifty three years is a long time."


	4. Chapter 4

_Millennium Part 4 _

After a month of planning Obersturmfuhrer Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel had his plan for the Major. One part he hated about planning was that sometimes others would come up with excellent ideas which he himself would never have been able to do himself. For example, Luke Valentine had made him look like a fool by suggesting that they undertake some of the conversions of vulnerable humans by deceiving them as to just how they came to obtain their powers. That is some would get them after 'waking up' from a dream, others through the occult, others could just be turned. That last part Friedrich had successfully argued was too risky. Still he looked like a fool for not having thought of it. Jan Valentine and Zorin Blitz were delighted at him being shown up.

He sighed at the memory as he put all the papers and notes into a leather folder and brought it for the Major. It covered three hundred different ways in which they could instigate incidents, and at the same time recommended that at most there should be thirty incidents over one year, at minimum five. He had then had to listen for four hours to the Gentlemen of the Opera House whine about their lost youth, and the fact that the Major would not turn them into vampires. Friedrich had wanted to kill them, or scream and run out of the room rather than listen, but it was his duty to pretend to be a fellow murderer and gangster.

He had rested a day as the Major had read his reports. He had hunted again, and this time had killed more snakes, as well piranhas. Feeling refreshed he had woken up a seven AM on November 22nd 1998, and had received a written note from the Major, delivered to him by the Captain. With trembling hands, he had taken the note, and read it, still only in his underwear, and Feldgrau t-shirt. It said simply _I am hungry, come for lunch and let us discuss your plan. I approve of its framework and have made only minor alterations, and one major addition which we shall discuss. Very well done, come and see me at Midday. With kind regards, your commander and friend. _"Thank you sir" Friedrich had stuttered to the Hauptsturmfuhrer and shut the door. He sank down, and had to collect himself before he could get dressed.

He was terrified of the tall, handsome, and gray haired Hauptsturmfuhrer, who had been silent since September 1945. Before then he had not spoken much, and he did not seem to have any emotions. He had only seen him display emotion when he had kissed Blitz at Kharkov and even then he was not sure if it was genuine. The Hauptsturmfuhrer only scared him less than two other monsters and those were first Alucard, and second Alexander Anderson. He had had the misfortune of meeting Alucard in Warsaw in September 1944.

At the time he was already a vampire. He had been turned by the Doc, the first subject on which the surgery to become a vampire was performed. He had been turned on December 15th 1943, and Friedrich Craebel had had no choice. That had been the only time the Major had used the secret he knew about Friedrich against him. In fairness to the Major, it was his way of trying to save him. A snooping and ambitious SD agent was close to discovering just what Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel truly was beneath his mask of smug Aryan superiority, German Nationalism, and extremely awkward and unconvincing chauvinism.

Even then he knew the Major would have had Friedrich as a test subject one way or another. Friedrich had felt betrayed at the time despite the fact that what was happening with the SD was in no sense the fault of the Major. His commander and friend had betrayed him and was willing to kill him to pursue fantasy, occult rubbish that could not possibly be true. He had said as much when they had been hunting for anything to do with vampires in Romania from November 1941-March 1942. The fact that they had done this had probably saved them from freezing to death before Moscow, but Friedrich still thought it was a waste of time and said so. The Major, waving around his special order from the Fuhrer said otherwise, and never once reprimanded his subordinate.

He redirected his thoughts from that sidetrack to the memory of Alucard. The Major was in charge of all paranormal projects. The ideas that had been floating around had all been crazy, but the Major had chosen the one which, as by September 1944 Friedrich knew all too well, was no myth. Since being director did not require too much paperwork, the Major's main job was in effect to be Head of Security of the project. When he was not around, Friedrich was acting Head of Security, with three platoons of handpicked SS troops at his disposal. He had wondered why Warsaw. He understood why the experiments should not be in Germany, but why Warsaw? The Soviet Army was only three miles away and the city was in the midst of an Uprising that Friedrich had been enlisted to help crush as the second demonstration of the incredible combat capabilities of a vampire. It was not the first Uprising Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel had helped put down. He and Warsaw had a bad history.

When they had arrived in Warsaw in March 1943, the Major had been puzzled as to where they could set up an appropriate base of operations, but after a good lunch, he had figured it out. Right in the middle of the Warsaw Ghetto, amongst the starving wretches, the remnants of the Ghetto community. They would set themselves up below the uniform factory, and work from there. From the Major's perspective it was perfect, and he had turned a blind eye to Friedrich helping one hundred Jews escape death, not that he cared anyway. The Major was too smart to believe that the Jews were enemies, and deplored the waste involved in the Holocaust.

At first Friedrich had thought it was only the waste of labor power that caused him to tut with disapproval about the whole affair. The Major would smirk and shake his head somewhat sadly "Such a waste" he would say, as if looking at spilled milk instead of skeletal people deliberately starved to death. At first Friedrich had been outraged that the Major seemed so devoid of human compassion as to even be sad, he still seemed to revel in the death of the Holocaust.

But one day, as preparations for the facility to be built were finalized, Friedrich noticed one of the few hints of decency and compassion in the Major. He had said to Friedrich and the Foremen working on the project. "All these people will have to be killed as soon as we are done with them." He laughed and smiled as he normally did when talking about killing. Friedrich had stared at the Major, stony faced on hearing this. These people had suffered so much? Now we have to compound their misery and exploit them one last time? He began weeping with rage.

Suddenly Friedrich noticed a subtle detail. The glow and delight had vanished from the Major's eyes to be replace by something...empty, something sad. His eyes had watered, but his facial expression remained the same, even the light chuckle, as a tear trickled down his cheek "Work will start in a week, make sure they get three good meals and nice clean beds." He had turned and walked away. It was one of the very few indications Friedrich had gotten that some part of the Major regretted what he had become.

No sooner had operations been set up, than the Ghetto had risen up.

One of the first things the insurgents had targeted was the uniform factory. Friedrich realizing what was happening, and knowing that no one who lived in the Ghetto knew, and certainly none of the guards knew or could know of the good deeds he had done. He had ordered the gates downstairs locked and had listened apathetically as the Ukrainian SS upstairs were brutally massacred as revenge for the suffering they had caused. As far as Friedrich was concerned, they deserved it for betraying their country to people who thought of them as sub-human. What had worried him was that, the insurgents would find the secret entrance, since they were bound to be looking for storage and hiding places and storm it. The other worry was the five hundred workers still building the facility. It was true they were being fattened up, but given all the Germans had done to them, this hardly would prevent them from using their new found strength to kill their tormentors. After all, they knew the Germans too well to know that their well fed state was simply to fatten them up for the slaughter. Either way, if either threat spilled out of control, they could not possibly hold them off. When this had happened, it had been him the Major, the Doc, one hundred and twenty Waffen SS, and one hundred terrified support staff cut off. The Major, feeling safe around Friedrich and three platoons of SS had sent the Captain on a mission. He would never make that mistake again.

He realized once again his mind had been drifting. He decided to stop remembering and just go see the Major. He wondered what was for Lunch. He discovered it was something special again. This time it was Duck in plum sauce with asparagus and small boiled potatoes. He sat down on his side of the small table. He noticed that his glass was full of wine, and the Major was grinning expectantly at his food. "You have done well Obersturmfuhrer, and as I hear arguments were kept to a minimum." The Major then laughed at his recent remark.

Friedrich could not help but smile. He and Zorin had not actually hit each other, which was good, but there were plenty of insults flying around. Hers were "Faggot" "Defeatist" "Army scum" "Schwarz Kappell" as well as other comments which questioned his masculinity. He however had endured all these insults until he could bear them no more with his trump insult. "How did you even get into the Waffen SS?" he had exclaimed in exasperation one day. "It does not make any sense!" She had been unable to answer that one, and Friedrich had actually seen the beginnings of a smile of the Hauptsturmfuhrer's face. The black haired Valentine brother had burst out laughing, and was repaid by Zorin's fist going straight through his stomach.

The Major was laughing "Oh my, you two are so amusing." He then resumed "As for the matter at hand I think it is excellent, and your idea of using the expendables in the attack on Hellsing Manor. There are only two things I have to add to it." The Major smirked "The first is the Valentine brothers can do all of the foot work, and the process of installing the chip can be done by our source. All they need to do is bring these Vampires, which you will randomly select to an appropriate rendez-vous point, which our source will choose."

"Who is this source Major?" Friedrich asked.

The Major chuckled "He is an extremely important person, one you have met already. When our preliminary campaign starts I will tell you who, for now be satisfied." Friedrich was not but he accepted this by nodding. The Major continued "The other major change of plan is you are rather vague as to how we will attack Hellsing manor. You just say we will use the Valentine brothers. You and I both know that whatever happens, this attack has less than a one percent chance in succeeding. Therefore we might as well boost the odds in whatever way we can."

"By doing what sir?" Friedrich asked somewhat distractedly as he ineptly cut a piece of duck.

"We will use one hundred armed and armoured ghouls" the Major said brightly.

Friedrich stopped cutting and looked up an astonished look on his face "What sir? Ghouls, they will be slaughtered, we'd just be wasting money" he could hear the rant Zeitzler the accountant would probably go into once he learned this.

"I would ask you to leave financial concerns to untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler. He already expresses enough financial concerns to be the global minister of finance" said the Major, almost with resignation. He brightened up "No I think you underestimate the military potentials of Ghouls Obersturmfuhrer, you remember that conversation we had?" he asked.

"As I recall, it was cut short" said Friedrich bitterly.

The Major was the first to eat, spearing a potato and putting it in his mouth. He laughed and talked as he chewed "Ah yes..." Both their minds wandered off to Warsaw August 1st 1944.

It had been at three o'clock in the afternoon. The sounds of gunfire could be heard across the Vistula as what was left of Army Group Center retreated in the face of the Soviet onslaught. He had learned the Doctor was not sure enough of results to repeat the surgery he had performed on Friedrich. Dok had reported that although the side effects of Friedrich's transformation, the ability to walk in daylight and to consume limited amounts of human food while retaining all the other attributes of a vampire, while desirable would be unlikely to reoccur. The chance of a such a possibility occurring again were less than 1 percent, therefore without time to discover the proper method, the Doctor had tried working on ghoul transformation on captured prisoners. "Ghouls sir? Friedrich had demanded, what use are they?"

The Major himself had not been so sure "I do see your point. The Ghoul is the most double edged weapon we could ever use, a being devoid of conscious, of thought or memory. The ghouls could attack us as easily as they could attack the allies, and I do not desire to have this continent turned into a giant land of the undead." Friedrich had shuddered at the thought, the Major who did not care too much for ordinary people had merely frowned. "We must do it though, Herr Himmler has demanded it and so has the Fuhrer. If we do not, I shall be relieved of my command, and Standartenfuhrer Kressenstein will be placed in charge." That thought was even worse. Kressenstein was now one of the invalided Colonels among the Opera House group, and like most officers who were not Prussians like Friedrich and the Major suffered from an inferiority complex which manifested itself as recklessness. "So I've ordered the Dok to do the best he can, we have one month. I hope of course that we will be able to use a thousand vampires in the counterattack against the Soviets" the Major had smiled at the thought, of a thousand Friedrichs, turning the tide of war "but I doubt it. Ah such a pity! Such a waste, that we shall not be able to see such a battle!"

For some reason the idea of sickle and hammer wielding vampire hunters had manifested itself in Friedrich's mind. He could see a tall Soviet soldiers, replete with an eye patch and the Green trimming of the NKVD, stabbing him in the heart with a sickle, killing him. He shuddered at the thought.

This had led to another thought and he asked "Major, cannot I control the ghouls? Ghouls are supposed to listen to vampires after all."

The Major had nodded, but the smile had not appeared. The Major said "Yes but you are an ersatz vampire Friedrich we don't know if that will work, we can try it of course. It is a shame that you have all those abilities but may not be able to control Ghouls. After all a day walker, one who can eat and drink normal food, and wipe out an entire British infantry company and destroy 4 tanks all by himself is not a failure." The memory of Friedrich singlehandedly killing 200 British soldiers at Anzio in March 1944 as a test of his combat capabilities returned the smile to the Major's face. "Oh that was so much fun, for a moment I actually thought that we could win this war, but I realize that we cannot."

Friedrich like most Germans, feared the Soviet Army and what it would do, they would kill, rape, and pillage Germany, as revenge for the countless unspeakable acts committed against the Soviet Union. Just then there was the sound of glass breaking and a hole appeared in the window of the office. It was unmistakeable. "Indekung!" the Major had shoted, and no sooner had both men begun diving for cover than another bullet came through the window. Then Friedrich began hearing the chatter of automatic weapons, the crack of rifles, and the pop of pistols. "The Poles..." the Major had smiled and retrieved his MP40 from the desk. The Major turned to Friedrich who in turn had grabbed his MP40 from its resting place against the desk, "Come Obersturmfuhrer let's go to war, against our second most hated enemy!" he had declared gleefully.

Back in the present the Major said "Although compared to vampires they are soft opponents Ghouls have the advantage of the fact that Hellsing would not expect them to be used in such as role, no one has ever given them that role. In any case the British soldier, even the SAS, which is what the men guarding Hellsing are, are trained to attack the chest of a target. That is fine for normal enemies but against Ghouls and Vampires utterly useless unless you concentrate so much fire on them that you literally rip apart their bodies. It will be fine. For we will know how to attack and what to do based on the failure of this mission. If one hundred Ghouls can come close to succeeding, then one hundred vampires will be certain to succeed, provided Alucard is removed from the picture." Friedrich had eaten some duck, savouring the blood still in it, as the Major went on. "From now on I shall lead all planning sessions so as to avoid any future problems between you and Obersturmfuhrer Blitz. All officers must be present for this. We are about to go to war, at long, long last."


	5. Chapter 5

_Millennium Part 5_

Now it is was time to put Operation _Feldgericht_ into effect, and send the Valentine Brothers on their mission. The Major had booked their tickets on a first class continental airlines flight. Schrodinger was watching over them with orders to liquidate both of them if one of them made a stupid move. The Dok had already gone on ahead to the safe house in London. What was the Dok exactly, he too did not age but he was not a Vampire or a werewolf, so what was he?

He would be there to perform surgery on the chosen vampires and then the plan would be set into motion. It was entirely out of the hands of Friedrich and the Major, and the Major while reasonably confident of success was apprehensive, what if they were detected and traced back here by Alucard. It would mean the end of their plans of the battalion, before they had had a chance to fight, to go to war. They had watched the Valentine brothers depart from the _Deus Ex Machina_ on a river speed boat, headed toward the nearest city.

The Major had ordered Friedrich to assemble his platoon for the occasion along with all the important officers of the battalion. Friedrich rarely saw his platoon, he left the running of it to his Scharfuhrer, Goltz. The reason he was rarely with his platoon was his duty as officer of the watch by day, and his men were all nocturnal. Furthermore he was often preoccupied with gathering media, and had taken trips, each lasting easily a month, to Germany ever five months. He was in charge of making sure the Millennium battalion was not completely isolated from the world at large, and was able to become aware of developments in the world, and its culture, through the large quantities of books, films, magazines, and games purchased. Since these trips were indisputably important, it was the one area where Sturmfuhrer Zeitzler did not complain about expense.

They were all dressed in neat Feldgrau uniforms with combat gloves. The men wore Wapo caps and he wore his officer's cap, complete with the Totenkopf. Suddenly, when they had joined Millenium the Totenkopf was something to be proud of and wear, instead of despise and reject. It was because that is what they were, despicable creatures of death, they were undead and they were only good for killing.

The men in his platoon were all devoted to him, and would follow only him and the Major. He had been careful of their selection before they had fled to South America. He was the only one of them who had started the war as a member of the SS. All the rest of them had been in the Regular Army. They varied in their backgrounds, some had been opponents of the regime since it had been founded, some had been indifferent to it, and still others had been devoted Nazis. The war had changed all that. For the indifferent it had been the crimes committed in the west which had stirred their conscience against what their country had become. For the devoted Nazis, it was either the indescribable crimes in the East, or the intense suffering in the East as a result of the Fuhrer's orders. They had continued fighting because they feared what would happen once the Allies inevitably came to Germany, or because it was the way to survive. Others had fought on, because like Friedrich they discovered they loved war. Like Friedrich while they were thinking of it they hated it, and everything about it.

All these men were toughened veterans, ones who, out of combat had looks of deep regret that could be mistaken by a non-frontkampfer for stupidity. Together they had wrestled with guilt, philosophy, the absence of women, the hollowness they felt. Yet almost every time they had gone into combat he had seen the tears on their faces dry up in a flash, the uncontrollable shaking turn to cold, precise professionalism, the desperate energy with which they dashed from cover to cover had a jaunty air about it, as if it was the best game ever designed in human history. The looks of horror and guilt on their faces had been replaced with grins and smirks as they killed, they had all broken into quiet laughter as they had killed one of the hated American flamethrower men, the ruptured tank bursting into flames and engulfing others around him. He remembered the malicious bright twinkle in all their eyes as they torched villages in Yugoslavia, massacring everything. Women, old men, even the smallest children, delighting in the sight of an elder trying to hobble away desperately from them and laughing as they shot them down! They also had taken pictures of the remains of an infant, and trod upon them afterwards shouting "Fertilizer for the fields!"

After the deeds were done though, they had broken down, sobbed and prostrated themselves before God for forgiveness, wept about how they were going to hell. They had all begged the victims for forgiveness and regretted their inability to reverse death. Soon they stopped bemoaning the lack of women, they could not possibly perform the act of love, it had to be warm, intimate, affectionate, after what they had done, they would see all they had done if they tried.

Friedrich remembered Scharfuhrer Goltz backing away in terror from a beautiful French woman who was a secretary at the Hotel Lutetia in Paris. The event had been a decadent SS party where the Major, the Captain and himself had sat on the sidelines. Other men had tried to have fun, but the guilt for some, such as Goltz was too great. "No, no" he had said, practically tripping over himself to avoid her "no, no, you're a resistance fighter! I know it! You'll murder me! You'll cut me into pieces! No! No!"

When a SD colonel demanded an explanation from Friedrich all he could do was silently weep. It was impossible to explain. It was as if Justice herself demanded that the moment any of them tried to find peace or pleasure in anything other than killing that they be gruesomely murdered. It was only just, after what they had done. It put them ever deeper in the cycle of pleasure in war and despair when they were at peace. They never wanted it to end, at the same time they wished for it to be over.

"I just want to go home to my mother and cry into her shoulder like when I was younger. I want my father hug me again" Oberschutze Braun had confided in him.

That all this was about to start, accompanied with all the mayhem made Friedrich and his men extraordinarily ambivalent.

So as the brothers sped away Friedrich and the forty men under his command had come to attention. Friedrich held his right arms straight up at a forty five degree angle, all his fingers together, "SIEG..." shouted Friedrich, and was joined by his men in a massive "HEIL!" No one in the battalion save a few would ever say "Heil Hitler." If they did they were likely to be met with stony faces.

"Now we wait for news" said the Major uncertainly, yet with a level and optimistic expression.

"Oh, Hellsing is good" said Friedrich nervously "It is quite possible that the brothers will be detected, or the arms shipment, or the Doktor and then what will we do?" he said, forgetting himself and bobbing up and down on his toes with apprehension.

"You are always one to play the defeatist" remarked Blitz cruelly

"Be quiet Blitz" Friedrich said calmly, without even looking at her.

He nearly jumped out of his uniform when he felt the sharp edge of Blitz's scythe come up to his neck. "Say that again...Obersturmfuhrer" she said dangerously.

Friedrich gulped, there was only one way out of this "You still have not told me how you got into the Waffen SS" he said nervously.

She stopped, and could tell she had an awkward look on her face. From his platoon he heard a suppressed snigger. She growled and said "So...um...uh...well...I wanted to fight for National Socialism, so I, uh, dressed up as a man and went to the recruiting office and..."

She was interrupted by the outbreak of uncontrollable laughter from all of Friedrich's platoon. The Scythe dropped from Friedrich's throat and he turned to see Blitz fuming as his entire platoon guffawed with laughter. The Scharfuhrer was actually on the ground laughing and pounding the ground with his fist. "I imagine it did not take a lot of effort to do that" Scharfuhrer Goltz spluttered and resumed his fit of laughing. Friedrich too joined in now that the danger seemed to be past. Her dressing up as a man, that was priceless, she wasn't very feminine to begin with. It was also amusing as the recruiter must have been very stupid to know she was not a woman. He looked at the Major who was chuckling his mouth open, his head thrown back so his glasses presented two blank discs. The Hauptsturmfuhrer was smiling as well.

Friedrich nervously snapped his head towards Blitz when he heard her growl, jump up, and bring her scythe toward the Scharfuhrer. Everyone saw what was happening, and looked on in horror as a man they had known for more than fifty years was about to be killed or seriously hurt. Friedrich pulled out his pistol but knew it would be no good.

Just then he saw Blitz knocked to the floor in a flash. When he saw her on the floor again she was being pinned down by the Hauptsturmfuhrer her scythe lay off to one side. The Hauptsturmfuhrer then got up once Blitz had calmed down. She was immediately up and said "Why do you not say anything Hauptsturmfuhrer?" she asked desperately, sounding for once like a woman instead of a gender confused freak.

To everyone's shock, except the Major's, the Hauptsturmfuhrer actually spoke.

"It has turned out fortunate for me to-day that destiny appointed

Braunau-on-the-Inn to be my birthplace. For that little town is situated

just on the frontier between those two States the reunion of which

seems, at least to us of the younger generation, a task to which we

should devote our lives and in the pursuit of which every possible means

should be employed.

German-Austria must be restored to the great German Motherland. And not

indeed on any grounds of economic calculation whatsoever. No, no. Even

if the union were a matter of economic indifference, and even if it were

to be disadvantageous from the economic standpoint, still it ought to

take place. People of the same blood should be in the same REICH. The

German people will have no right to engage in a colonial policy until

they shall have brought all their children together in the one State.

When the territory of the REICH embraces all the Germans and finds

itself unable to assure them a livelihood, only then can the moral right

arise, from the need of the people to acquire foreign territory. The

plough is then the sword; and the tears of war will produce the daily

bread for the generations to come.

And so this little frontier town appeared to me as the symbol of a great

task. But in another regard also it points to a lesson that is

applicable to our day. Over a hundred years ago this sequestered spot

was the scene of a tragic calamity which affected the whole German

nation and will be remembered for ever, at least in the annals of German

history. At the time of our Fatherland's deepest humiliation a

bookseller, Johannes Palm, uncompromising nationalist and enemy of the

French, was put to death here because he had the misfortune to have

loved Germany well. He obstinately refused to disclose the names of his

associates, or rather the principals who were chiefly responsible for

the affair. Just as it happened with Leo Schlageter. The former, like

the latter, was denounced to the French by a Government agent. It was a

director of police from Aug..."

Friedrich could not contain himself any longer, he was enraged at hearing those words, those infernal words. He had had to force himself to memorize it at the SS Academy. His fury, as he remembered his flitting moments of seduction with the most contemptible of ideologies man has ever known, overcame him. His pistol was drawn, with a look rage on his face he aimed it in the air and pulled the trigger. "SHUT UP!" He shouted. He began jumping up and down in a bizarrely childish manner "SHUT UP!" he pulled the trigger again "SHUT UP!" Blitz and his platoon stared at him in astonishment. "SHUT UP!" he shouted again. Unable to contain his nervous and angry energy he found himself running up a support beam of the base, grabbing onto one of the metal loops, already five meters off the ground. He glared at all of those below him including the Major. He fired again in the air until the clip was empty "SHUT UP!"

At last he panted from exhertion and embarrassment. He looked at all the stunned faces, from his platoon, to Blitz. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had his normal expression on and the Major was still smiling. Friedrich let go of the beam and dropped down, landing perfectly on the deck. He holstered his pistol "I am sorry everyone" he said bowing at a ninety degree angle to all assembled "but I cannot stand that book."

Blitz was the first one to speak, with more curiousity in her voice than menace. "Why do _you_ not want to hear the words of our late Fuhrer?" she demanded.

Now it was Friedrich's turn to be put on the spot. He looked up at all the astonished faces of his men. He had never told them! He had never confessed! Blitz was smiling with immense pleasure at his discomfort "Something you wish to tell us Herr Craebel?" she demanded "You a queer perhaps?"

Such an accusation made him flustered "I, uh, no I..." His men were suddenly looking at him uncomfortably and backing away. Friedrich looked at them desperately, trying to communicate that he was not.

He was saved by the Hauptsturmfuhrer "He is a Social Democrat."

There was complete silence as all, but the Major and the Hauptsturmfuhrer stared at him wide eyed.

The silence was broken by the Major's maniacal laugh "And none of you noticed?" he demanded incredulously. "He has it written all over him!"

Friedrich could sense the collective sigh of relief breathed by his platoon. At the same time they were still baffled. He had been in the SS all along, they had assumed he had been a right winger. Instead, somehow a Social Democrat had gotten into the SS and was one of the Major's oldest comrades.

"Majority or Minority Social Democrat?" asked Oberschutze Braun.

"Uh" Friedrich pronounced somewhat awkwardly "Majority Social Democrat of course, but in my home, my parents, although against Luxemburg, sang _Ich hatte ein Kameraden_ when she was murdered."

Scharfuhrer Goltz shrugged "Oh alright, I, my parents were Minority Social Democrats. I voted for them until the bitter end."

The platoon's formation had broken and they were all conversing among themselves asking which Party they had been affiliated with.

Schutze Betruger, the man with the unfortunate name who was in fact extraordinarily trustworthy said "I was a Nazi, at the time I just didn't like Yids."

"Well what made you changed your mind?" asked Rottenfuhrer Neuchel.

"There is a huge difference between not liking Jews and killing them by starvation and shooting them in the head" said Betruger shaking his head "that was a horrible, horrible business; you just wanted to give them some food."

Friedrich felt the tap on his shoulder, he turned around to see the Major, his eyes still obscured by the light. "Come Obersturmfuhrer let us go and see about all the other things we can now prepare to do." He turned and walked away. Friedrich gladly followed suit.


	6. Chapter 6

Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel followed the Major down one of the metal halls that housed the _Deus Ex Machina_. Friedrich was always stunned by the design of the base and also how it had been built.

When they had arrived in South America, he remembered how they had all tried to look inconspicuous. The Major had rarely stopped wearing the white suit he wore then. They were supposed to be an "Archaeological research team from the University of Zurich" this was supposed to explain the fact that they spoke German, however such were the times that, had anyone been really looking at that point, they would no doubt have quickly found out that they were Germans. Worse than simply just Germans, but a particular type of German, SS fugitives. Worse still had they so much as demanded a medical examination, they would have found out that none of them were entirely human. Any passing examination would have noted Friedrich's sharp teeth. Any closer examinations would have revealed the Major and the Captain to be…different.

The important thing at the time had been that they had money and for that, no questions were asked. No questions were asked to why they wanted to be in one of the deepest parts of the Amazon Rainforest. No questions were asked when they paid for a courageous and poor bunch of workers to build a base that was easily 150 meters deep, if not greater. Nobody asked questions when it was built, why would they, they were getting good money. No one asked why all these strange crates were arriving but only the Europeans could take care of them. Nobody asked why more and more Europeans kept arriving. Nobody asked why, as soon as one of them fell ill from a mosquito or even something nastier, they would be whisked away, disappear for a few days and then come back to look over the night watch, perfectly healthy and even with smug grins on their faces. Nobody asked questions when the Europeans began building, day and night, airships in the three separate hangers in the base. Nobody asked questions when the zone they inhabited was declared protected from any logging operations.

Finally they could no longer asked questions when they were all killed for the first feast of the Millennium battalion and the base closed to the outside world.

Friedrich had no idea where they were going, considering his little stunt just a few minutes ago and that he had forced the Hauptsturmfuhrer to speak, it was possible he was going to be disciplined. Friedrich was filled with terror at that thought. Usually the Major was indulgent, but when he felt he needed to his punishments could be…brutal. Unconsciously Friedrich made a choking noise at the thought of what might happen to him. The Major chuckled as they walked on.

Friedrich looked back at the Captain, his face a mask of terror. The Hauptsturmfuhrer just looked right back at him with the same expression he always wore and that could mean well nigh anything. Friedrich kept looking at him, afraid to take his eyes off of him, lest when he looked away his shoulders would become lonesome for his head.

With his vampiric senses Friedrich was able to keep himself following the Major and still watching the Hauptsturmfuhrer as they wound their way down the corridor. The Major's voice made him reflexively turn his head back toward him. "You have nothing to fear Obersturmfuhrer other than Untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler. He will certainly want your head for your little outburst; after all, you have just cost us another quarter of a dollar." The Major snorted at the end of it. "Believe me I am not upset. It no doubt will be the highlight for me of this entire month." Suddenly Friedrich remembered what he had been scared of and turned toward the Hauptsturmfuhrer. He received a nod from the Captain.

The Major snorted with amusement again as he walked. "It will not unduly surprise you, I am sure, Obersturmfuhrer that I have not simply been letting you do all the work and that I in fact have been doing other things. Other things in fact that are just as, if not more important and more delicate than what you have been handling."

This did not unduly surprise Friedrich. He was surprised to learn that there was another aspect to the events surrounding the attack on London that he was not aware. He was not surprised that this turn of events had come about, the Major had always kept things hidden from his subordinates, even his friends, when he had felt it was necessary to succeed. He knew that the officers of the battalion had been planning the attack on London itself since 1980. He himself had participated in those sessions. There had been one held every year, for three weeks, and each year the plan was updated according to how London had changed. A new building here, more police recruited, how many residents in the City, the state of defenses, such as they were, within the City, just what was in the city and so on.

Every year, each of them had suspected they were not being informed of everything. Friedrich's friend, Untersturmfuhrer Johan Von Gentz, had said in 1986 "He's not telling us something. Whenever we do these plans they show us being wiped out by Alucard within three hours, yet he tells us not to plan how to defeat Alucard. He tells us to assume Alucard is not there. Why?"

"Don't look at me" Friedrich had responded "rather don't ask me, nobody ever tells me anything, then when I need to know they demand 'didn't you know?' No I do not know what he is up to, but knowing the Major, I think we should trust him when he says there will be no Alucard."

"Of course I do not doubt the tactical and strategic prowess of the Major, it is just, well, besides the Captain, the Dok, and Sturmscharfuhrer Schrodinger you are the closest of any of us in this facility to the Major."

"Being close to the Major just means I get to eat dinner with him and talk about various things, it does not mean he confides anything in me, if anything information only flows one way in those sessions."

Every year the Major asked that they change the plans a bit to adjust for various factors which he threw their way, usually being inserted into the battle at random points. After a few years Friedrich had noticed a pattern, many of the same factors kept appearing but at different points in the battle. What was stranger still is that these factors we extraordinarily vague. An example of something which was thrown in, at various planning stages was sometimes defined as "powerful anti-vampire force descends upon London." That could mean anything and Friedrich had no idea what to make of it. The Major never revealed what he did with the plans or offered any constructive praise or criticism. That meant he himself was doing something with the plans. Friedrich did not speculate as to what, it could be anything.

At other times the factors were frighteningly specific, such as 'Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing is captured. Devise a precise escort plan for her to be taken to a rendezvous with the _Deus Ex Machina_ for vampirization, while factoring in responses to potential counter attacks from elite anti-Vampire forces.' Then the next day the instruction would change to 'Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing is detained by elite anti-Vampire forces and later eludes her captors, discuss how this might affect the strategic and tactical situations of the Battle of London.'

"Are these essay assignments or planning sessions?" Untersturmfuhrer Von Gentz had once asked exasperatedly.

"Obviously the Major is aware of things which we are not and has plans that we do not know of. Perhaps even he is not interested in what the enemy will do so much as what we will do and is trying to factor in how members of the Battalion will behave. Perhaps it is something else entirely. In truth I do not know."

At that Johan had smiled "Of course" he had said, the light presenting his glasses as two blank discs. He had turned to Friedrich "Don't you see?" He had asked the question with _that _grin.

Friedrich suddenly, if only subconsciously understood and returned the smile. The other officers, who had been listening in, they too understood and all their eyes had blazed red with malice and delight.

Even so, Friedrich never ceased being perturbed by the sudden turn in the Major's plans, they were after all, not always pleasant. At the same time his worries never lasted long, he was always sure that whatever the Major had planned, it was worth following. The Major was the man who had rescued all of their souls from the 3rd Reich and made them find happiness in war.

"Ah yes Obersturmfuhrer" the Major said "There is much, much more than you know at work here, but I feel it is only fair that you see some of what we are doing."

They had arrived at the planning room in the base itself. The base was discrete from the Airships themselves, in that it was where the soldiers lived and where most of the machinations in this place occurred. That included planning, however sometimes Friedrich was unsure of the difference between this room and that on the _Deus Ex Machina_ because both were identical.

"Tell me Obersturmfuhrer" the Major asked, turning his head slightly so that Friedrich could see his smirk and the half disc stare of his glasses "When did you last talk to Tubalcain Alhambra?"

Friedrich froze in place as he thought about that question, at first forgetting who Tubalcain even was. Then he remembered. He had been the Brazilian official Millennium had bribed, with the promise of immortality in exchange for keeping everything smooth with Millennium's move, the base's construction and the explanation for the events surrounding both. He had been an important official around his early 40s, but like anybody in the 3rd world, open to being bribed by someone bidding, not particularly high.

Friedrich remembered, with a mixture of gratitude and disgust how Alhambra had covered up everything for them after the 'first feast.' The Dok had come to tell him that he would continue getting the same amount of money every year as he had for a month when Millennium was establishing itself, he was also told that in return, when he retired and became ill, he would receive the best gift he ever could. At least that is what Friedrich had been able to discern, sitting on the Hotel balcony at night, looking out for anyone who might be watching.

At the time Friedrich had thought that what the Dok meant was that when he fell ill, they would spirit him off into the night, telling everyone he had been taken for some "special care" and then he would never been seen again. Likely as not he would have been a meal for some men on the base. That is what Friedrich thought. The Major did not trust traitors, even when they were helping.

Yes, yes he could remember the 'rest and relaxation' they had with the Reserve Army in Yugoslavia in November 1942. Informants were everywhere, especially in Croatia, ready and willing to help them out. In a typical example of the horrid and grotesque grandiosity of the 3rd Reich, the Unit the Major had been leading had been designated a "Kampfgruppe." Even though it had just been the Major, the Hauptsturmfuhrer, Friedrich, two platoons of Danish SS, five platoons of "Russian Liberation Army" soldiers, and a platoon of Feldgendarmie soldiers. Normally a Kampfgruppe was at least two full strength battalions and was mechanized. This so called "Kampfgruppe" only had enough vehicles for the non-Slavic soldiers, the Osttruppen had to walk or use bicycles, a fact which, strangely enough, made Friedrich feel humiliated. The only good thing about that whole episode was that he had met then Leutnant Von Gentz. Von Gentz and most of the men who were with the Battalion today had been Regular Army not SS.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the gears work on the door and it slid open with a metal hum, the light gradually coming into the darkened corridor from the room. Inside was…Sturmscharfuhrer Schrodinger. He was sitting on the command chair and his eyes were glowing red, even though he was not a vampire. His face was obscured by the shadows thrown across his body, but it could only be Schrodinger, the cat ears gave him away. Schrodinger spoke as Friedrich scowled at his shadow "It is good for you Herr Obersturmfuhrer that the Nazis were far stupider than anyone gives them credit for. I learned that about you a long time ago, your mind is a lot easier to read when you are reading your books. You really should learn to be less emotional."

"Have you ever had to read that entire book and pretend that it is the most profound philosophy you have ever read and that you absolutely love it?" demanded Friedrich acidly.

Schrodinger jumped down, landing on all fours and then standing up, closed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders "No, but fortunately I was created before I would have had to learn any of that. If I had to…well killing myself would not be very effective."

The Major laughed at this far more heartily than Friedrich. "Ah good one Sturmscharfuhrer Schrodinger, but do tell me, why are you here and not Tubalcain?" he asked.

Schrodinger smiled and reappeared in just under the blink of an eye. It was only something Friedrich had been able to capture because of his vampiric vision which allowed him to perceive things, instinctively that would be important for a hunter, such as something appearing or disappearing and his antagonism towards Schrodinger was strong enough for him to notice when the Sturmscharfuhrer was and was not there. "He is coming Major, he was busy practicing some fighting techniques. He is coming right now and will be here very shortly."

The Major turned to Friedrich and smiled, it was not his normal happy smile, but more of an insane one that Friedrich was unsure if he should emulate or not. There had been plenty of times during the war when Friedrich, as had every member of the Battalion, wore the exact same smile. The Major's insane smile was infectious, everyone emulated it. They wanted to, not just because the Major was an inspirational and brilliant commander, but because the smile showed that _they got it_, they understood war and how to find happiness in the midst of it. It was a smile that said they were privy to a special knowledge few others could know, when that smile was on your face, it seemed as if you knew everything the Major did without being told what it was you knew. However if that smile was directed at you and not shared with you, it often meant you were about to suffer. Again Friedrich worried about being killed or disciplined for his outburst. You could never know, because the Major was insane. Friedrich knew this because he was insane as well.

"I do wish you would relax Obersturmfuhrer I would not kill one of my oldest comrades for an entirely understandable and amusing outburst" The Major said reassuringly while cackling softly. "I used to love that book" he said. He turned slightly the insane smile gone from his face to be replaced by a straight expression, which was almost the Major's equivalent of a frown. "Until that day…"

Friedrich nodded. The Major turned to look at him and they exchanged a glance through the blank discs of their glasses. Yes, that day had come surprisingly early in the war. Friedrich exaggerated somewhat when he said that he had always been in the SS. His blood had not been "pure" enough. That is his great grandfather, a man he had never met, had been Russian. It was true he had gone to the SS Academy to train as an officer, it had been the best way to avoid suspicion, but he had been refused entry to the SS, which at that time had been far more exclusive, when this fact was discovered about him. It did not stop him from qualifying to be in an elite unit. He was simply placed in the _Grossdeutschland_ Regiment, where even though they wore Regular Army tabs, the Totenkopf was present on their uniforms.

Friedrich had briefly met the Major at a Nazi Party rally in 1938, the same one where he had met Zorin Blitz. The Major had been thinner back then, fitter and as a result lacking in the affability he now possessed, and he did not have the same warmth, the same glow in his eyes, the same smile as he did after _that day_. Back then the Major had been an interesting, intelligent man, but still very much a Nazi. The Major, then an Obersturmfuhrer, had lamented that he was not thirty centimeters taller because otherwise he could look like the perfect Aryan man.

That day had changed all that…Again Friedrich's musings were interrupted by the sound of the hum of the doors opening, the gears moving, the light from the room illuminating the corridor beyond. It revealed proof that not all vampires had good dress sense or were even attractive. Jan Valentine certainly proved the point in terms of dress sense, but Tubalcain Alhambra emphasized it in a way that showed a garishness that was embarrassing to the Battalion and Vampires in general. His striped shirt and blue tie were certainly acceptable, but Friedrich could never abide by the dandyish pink suit, and the large brimmed pink Fedora hat.

"Who is the homoerotic weirdo who sold that hat to him?" Friedrich had asked the Major, shortly after seeing a vampirized Alhambra for the first time, seventeen years ago.

The Major had chuckled and said "Now be fair Obersturmfuhrer, we musn't be too hard on any of the opera house."

There had been raucous guffaws at that from all the officers of the battalion.

Another detail that annoyed Friedrich about Alhambra was his mustache. It had suited Alhambra when he had been younger by making him seem stylish no doubt, but it did not make seductive. It was silly, Friedrich noted, getting hung up on such details, but he and other battalion members had learned the value of being seductive and attractive, to the opposite gender that was, as a means of staying hidden. But that was another story that Friedrich did not have time for as Alhambra came forward.

"Yes Herr Sturmbannfuhrer?" he asked with a pleasant smile on his face.

The Major subdued and calm face was another way of expressing seriousness on his part. "You are aware, naturally, of everything we are doing in Britain during these coming months are you not?"

Alhambra kept his smile and kept his hands behind his back "But of course, I would not be so disrespectful to the man who gave me immortality and my family a good life as to not pay attention and not read what you have given me."

The Major's cheeks puffed up a bit more "Excellent Tubalcain, because I want you to be well aware of everything that might happen, particularly if Hellsing should, through their own investigations, or by way of the Vatican, discover who we are and, in general terms where we are."

Friedrich's eyes turned from their normal dark brown, to blazing red and he began salivating more than usual as he thought of the Vatican. Tubalcain noticed as he said "Your little soldier is obviously quite emotional Herr Major." Friedrich forced himself to calm down even though he had just been belittled.

The Major did not even look at him as he responded "Well yes, he has his reasons, oh so many of them, but the point is not the Vatican, they will not come for us, if anyone will, it is Hellsing itself. When Hellsing does come I want you to be wherever they are and to make sure that they do not find us."

"How could they do that Herr Major?" asked Tubalcain with a facial expression that said he knew the information that would lead him to the answer but had not found out just what that piece of information was, even if he knew of its existence.

The Major definitely chuckled this time "It is simple Tubalcain. It is because of you that they shall discover where we are."

Alhambra was taken aback by this statement, right down to the fact that he stepped back when he heard this. Like Friedrich, Alhambra was afraid of the Major's disciplining actions. Friedrich also wondered how this could be, and he especially did not want Hellsing coming here. Not only would it ruin the war but…he would see…HIM…again…and after…Friedrich had started to sweat.

"Oh rest assured I do not mean you Tubalcain, even as you're body shriveled and you grew old you never betrayed us and you helped us settle in to our lovely home here. I do not doubt your loyalty for an instant." At this both Friedrich and Alhambra looked towards the Captain, whose face was hidden by the upturned collars of his greatcoat. Friedrich remembered then to look for Schrodinger. He was surprised to find Schrodinger next to him, standing at attention, with a calm and gentle smile. The boy's ears pricked up when Friedrich at him. Schrodinger looked up and gave Friedrich a broad toothy, mischievous grin. "What I mean" the Major said, going on "is you as a vampire. You require blood, as does nearly everyone on this base, we must come by supplies. We have remained hidden from the world for so long and must still be healthy enough to conduct operations with great energy. Furthermore they know we were trying to build an Army of Vampires, so Hellsing will look for anything which could lead them to where a large concentration of Vampires might be."

Alhambra's smile disappeared and settled instead into thoughtfulness. After a few moments he asked "What must I do?"

The Major smiled "No doubt they shall send Alucard and perhaps even that boy to us. If they come you must kill them both. I trust you to do this, you are powerful enough."

At this compliment, the cocky grin returned to Alhambra's face and he bowed "Thank you Herr Major."

"You are most welcome, we got far better than we expected when we rewarded you for your endeavors" the Major noted approvingly "however there is one thing we must ensure does not happen." At that the doors opened behind Alhambra. He turned to look and Friedrich looked along with him to see what was beyond. A shadow emerged, but from the relatively short spiky hair and the cigarette smoke Friedrich could tell it was Zorin Blitz.

Friedrich immediately knew, all of a sudden, what was going to happen and why. Just the instant before it did happen, his eyes blazed red and the insane knowing smile appeared on his face.

Suddenly the Hauptsturmfuhrer surged forward a flash and grabbed one of Tubalcain's arms before he could react. The second arm was grabbed by Obersturmfuhrer Blitz. Both she and the Hauptsturmfuhrer then hooked their legs around Tubalcain's their strength being more than enough for them. The hat had dropped from his head with violence of the action and a look of panic had spread across his face, he obviously thought that he was about to die. Friedrich knew what this was! Yes he knew! Before the Major could say it or, far more likely, just as the Major had planned for it to be Friedrich turned back to Schrodinger and said "Sturmscharfuhrer, do it."

Schrodinger disappeared and Alhambra's face changed from sheer raw terror, to glazed horror as his eye pupils flitted up into his head leaving only the whites and the blood vessels showing. He remained like that for a few seconds before dropping down, unconscious. When he did Schrodinger remade his appearance. The Major's semi-permanent knowing smile was there as he said "Well done Sturmfuhrer Schrodinger. Well done. Zorin, Hauptsturmfuhrer, very well done as well." He turned to Friedrich, the light obscuring his glasses again "Very well done Obersturmfuhrer I knew I could count on you." He turned his head back to the Captain and Blitz. "See to it that this man is loaded onto the appropriate transportation Obersturmfuhrer Blitz. Hauptsturmfuhrer, you and Obersturmfuhrer Craebel should go get appropriately dressed and make sure he is delivered safely."

Blitz and Friedrich clicked their heels and gave the Victory salute at the same time "Yes Herr Sturmbannfuhrer!"


	7. Chapter 7

The Major sometimes forgot his own name. He just _was_. He was there, a physical presence occupying a space no one else could occupy, his skin radiated warmth and his cheeks would flush when he had good food. He almost always was smiling or smirking because he, far more so than anyone else in the world, understood war. More than war, he understood humanity, all of it. War was a thrill to him not just because of all the wonder different sounds and sights, but because war revealed human nature. War raised up both the substance and the idea of something to their highest possible levels, revealing what humans were without restraint. What humans were supposed to be, was revealed to be so much nonsense, or more importantly what you would expect if you were one of the few who paid attention to how things were.

He thought this as he watched one of the closest things he had to a friend, Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel, depart the briefing room. The Major had seen himself in the mirror and knew that when his eyes blazed in the delight of _war_ they were both welcoming, insane, furious and happy all at once. His eyes almost always were like that whenever Friedrich was around. The Major liked Friedrich, not just for his competence, but because of his complexity. In many ways Friedrich served as his moral compass. Often, during the war he had tried to remind people of what was right, to retain compassion. Sometimes, without ever admitting it, the Major had been swayed by his eloquence. At the same time Friedrich was one of the biggest hypocrites the Major had ever met. Friedrich would deny everything but the Major _knew_ that Friedrich loved every aspect of war. He knew that Friedrich almost never regretted killing, he enjoyed it. He also knew that Friedrich had experienced all the substance and ideas of the human race at their highest pinnacles in the war and that he had reveled in it. Every sight, every death, every bullet fired, every dead comrade, every maimed enemy, together they had enjoyed it all and had never ceased wanting more.

The only reason Friedrich pretended that this was not so is that he obviously felt that it was somehow unnatural that he should feel what he felt. He felt that the pinnacle of the human experience should be realized in pleasant circumstances, instead of in their worst. He felt he was not supposed to enjoy massacring villages and towns full of innocents. He was not supposed to enjoy the bullets from his MP-40 ripping through the flesh of enemies but he did. Friedrich was amusing because, even after all he had done, even after choosing to come with them to South America, even though he was the oldest of the vampires in the Battalion, he still fought a war against himself.

Besides intelligence and cunning the only real difference between him and Friedrich was that the Major did not deny himself what he realized. Indeed, the Major believed that his oldest surviving comrade could become just as devious and ingenious as he knew he was, if he would just acknowledge his true feelings and not be ashamed anymore of delighting in _war. _

Friedrich was grateful in one sense that he was going with the Captain to drop off Tubalcain Alhambra. Sitting in a speed boat with the Captain would give him time to think of all those thoughts he had not found time to finish. On the other hand, he was going with the Captain and the Hauptsturmfuhrer never failed to strike terror into his heart. He worked his way up to his room to change into the disgustingly casual clothes he had to wear when he went boating, for whatever reason, on the river. He and the Hauptsturmfuhrer had to be inconspicuous, that could be a problem. As a matter of fact, Friedrich reflected, the Captain was one of the least of their problems. He had so often been around the Major for most of the war that he was a myth, a legend. However Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel and many other officers and soldiers in the battalion were wanted for war crimes and it had caught up with him twice in Germany.

Friedrich's walk slowed as he thought of the first time. It had been 1959 and he was in East Berlin. He was in East Berlin because that had used to be his home. He had been on a media gathering trip, Berlin being the best place for gathering media from almost any culture you could think of. There was the democratic West and the Communist East. In a lot of ways Friedrich preferred the life in the East to that in the West. He wondered at first if it was because he had grown up in East Berlin. He later decided that could not be it. Easily a score of people simply left East Berlin and entered West Berlin each week and many of them had always called East Berlin home. So why did he prefer the more depressing, less colorful, less vibrant part of the City. He came to the disturbing conclusion that it was because it reminded him more of the 3rd Reich and the war. The soldiers and Police all wore Feldgrau uniforms and the East was a police State, just like the 3rd Reich, even if it was far less sinister than the 3rd Reich. He also liked it because Communist countries existed somewhere in a dimension between plenty and wartime scarcity. It was not so much that goods were not made or available but rather when you could get them. Friedrich liked that for the perverse reason that it reminded him of rationing, but it was rationing that was more annoying than a stern necessity. He was disguised himself by saying he was an Argentinean businessman named Bernardo Schweitzer who was looking at select Eastern bloc goods which Argentinean consumers might want.

There were two problems with this cover and this is where his troubles had begun. He was not dark enough to be an Argentinean. Artificial vampires, such as himself, retained their natural skin color, even if that skin became two shades lighter. His gray pallor was not South American. Second anybody, especially at that time, with a South American name, but with impeccable German was suspected of being _a Nazi._ It did not matter that Friedrich had been frozen in years as a not quite 29 year old, which would have made him, in 1959, too young to have been anyone of consequence in the war.

However when Friedrich had had those sudden images of Soviet Vampire hunters in the moments before the Warsaw Uprising began, he had not been wrong. Such people existed. As a matter of fact they were a branch of SMERSH. Friedrich only found this out because 1959 had been the year he had finally had sex with a woman, well sort of, not really, but an acceptable surrogate.

Friedrich had noticed something was amiss when he was drinking Ethiopian coffee in a clean but dreary café in the Eastern part of the city. It had been night and none of the food in the East was particularly good, so he did not eat anything at 'meal times.' At the time he had been feeling thirsty. As a soldier who had inhaled coffee when he had still been human, Friedrich knew that coffee was a stupid way to sate any thirst. The thirst he felt of course was for human blood. Friedrich had once, and the memory sent shivers of terror through him, looked at two soviet soldiers smoking and talking. They looked just like any other group of Soviets he had killed during the war and the uniforms had changed little. For a moment he had lost himself in the memory of all those wonderful battles, the nostalgic shocks and explosions and his eyes had blazed red as he thought of charging forward and using his strength and teeth to rip an arm off of one of those soldiers and drink from the gushing wound, maybe even feast…The look on the faces of the two soldiers as they looked at him caused a look of surprise and terror to appear on Friedrich's face. They had seen him and, in all probability his eyes. Friedrich had waved and smiled weakly turning and leaving. Usually Russians would shout something obscene and run after anyone who gave them a funny look, at the time the soldiers obviously had thought they had seen someone…_no man had red eyes._

Back in the café, he had felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and knew from the caring touch that it was a female. He was both excited and worried at the feel. He was excited from a puerile joy at female contact and worried that it was someone who knew what he was. At the touch the image of those two soldiers had flashed in his mind and Friedrich felt guilty that he had thought about eating them. Even if he was a vampire, he tried to adhere to standards. In fact there was a standard in the Battalion when it came to feeding. Men and ugly women, kill and eat, good looking women have a gentle drink. He looked, grateful that the light had caught his glasses so that his lenses would obscure his eyes in case they were flashing red. He looked up and had seen a beautiful Russian woman. Alright maybe not Russian, but she was not a German, she was distinctly Slavic. There were the proud European features made all the more alluring by the hint of Asia. She was smiling warmly at him. "Can I by you another drink?" she asked confidently, yet gently in accented German.

Friedrich's first instinct had been to say 'yes' but a number of things got in the way of that. The first was the fear that, being Russian, and he, as a Nazi Vampire, was about to get hunted down. Having never, as yet, faced Vampire hunters he was unsure if his body could withstand certain attacks. His first instinct was that this woman was, somehow, a vampire hunter. After all why would a Soviet woman do something so nice for a German, especially since she was clearly old enough to remember the war? The second problem was that Friedrich, even had all of that not been the case, was naturally suspicious. He was naturally suspicious of anyone being nice to him and doubly suspicious if it was a female.

Furthermore, this set up was a classical way, he figured, to lure male vampires to their deaths. Send a beautiful woman after them to be nice, one who they could see, or more truthfully, was pretending to be nice to them, this would make them relax. Next, seeing that being more than nice, she _wanted _them, or more truthfully was acting like that. So out goes our hero, perhaps he's planning murder, perhaps he's thinking he'll just love how she'll cry out so deliciously in terror when she sees he's a vampire. Oh, he thinks to himself, smiling, his sharp teeth flashing, his eyes glowing red, how she'll squeal in pain and pleasure when I plunge my teeth into his bare throat. The thought of all this and blood gushing into his mouth makes him distracted. Suddenly the villain turns round and stabs something through his heart and that is that, or maybe she toys with him first, hurting him first, delighting in her slow kill of the pinnacle of masculinity.

So Friedrich was not charming and said "No thank you" in a gruff voice.

She had still been nice to him "You sure? It's my treat."

At that point her manners and politesse got to him and he said, still rudely "Oh, alright." He had still been suspicious of course. He was hardly the most attractive member of the Battalion, in fact the Major was more handsome than he was as was Untersturmfuhrer Von Gentz and of course the Hauptsturmfuhrer, this made him even more suspicious. He was sure that this was a trap. At the same time he could not be sure and it would be even more suspicious and unseemly if he became ruder than he was already being, which made him suspect even more that it was a trap. It was all too perfect, that is perfect in a way designed to kill him, but like an idiot he kept going forward.

"So where do you work?" she had asked him as she sat down with him.

He had not answered truthfully; he said something about the Ministry of Finance, because for some reason he thought that that would get her off his back. In retrospect he should have just stuck to his cover story because it was perfectly acceptable to be seen with foreigners from other Warsaw Pact nations. On and on this had gone with Friedrich becoming more conversational and more relaxed, which again in retrospect was stupid, because talking meant showing your teeth and his teeth would be an undead giveaway. She had told him his name was Anna Amatova and he, stupidly, had given her his real name.

At the end of it though, his caution had reasserted itself and he had bade her goodnight. Still she had invited him back to her apartment and he felt, after having bought him a drink that it would be the height of rudeness to refuse.

As they walked back to her apartment he made sure to stay just behind her and to look lost in thought, even if he politely listened to her. She was an elegant and tall woman, not really tall but a few inches taller than he was, like Zorin Blitz, even if this woman was more feminine. He was still thirsty and he was grateful it was a chilly April day so that her skin was covered, that way he would not give himself away.

She had remained friendly until they got back to her apartment, the standard five room Soviet affair. She had of course not dropped the mask immediately, but the way she took off her coat and gloves was clearly sensual, even if it left her in an inelegant Soviet dress. She talked to him some more and revealed more that she was in the Army and that this was her day off, some other such nonsense. When she mentioned the Army, Friedrich knew he was in a trap. There were very few women in the Soviet Army and why would she not be in the barracks? Which meant of course that she was Secret Police and that could not mean anything good. He had continued to be polite and hoped against hope that if he showed no interest she would conclude he was not a vampire because no vampire could resist attacking someone when they were thirsty and alone.

It did not work, she had smiled seductively after a few minutes of conversation and told him to wait on the couch, which he did. As she went he heard the shower running. At that moment he was about to go for the door when he did two stupid things. First he had looked at his clothing and concluded that it gave him away as a Nazi. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and a red tie, the colors of Imperial Germany and the Nazi Party. He had wondered for a few moments as the water in the shower ran if that meant he actually liked the Nazis for all the chances their regime had given him to…have fun in the war. Perhaps he wore that suit because…could it be?...that he was proud of everything he had done, that he truly had no shame for all the crimes he had committed? Perhaps he just wanted to look scary and sinister? The second was that he then decided against running away and instead to find out who this woman was.

Fortunately the bedroom was at the opposite end of the apartment for some unaccountable reason. He ducked in and began sifting through her belongings, finding nothing that would tell him anything. Maybe he could have but he found no documents with official sealing and he could not read Cyrillic or speak Russian, which confounded his goals still further. He wondered if he had passed over something relevant because of these factors. He did find her passport but that was when he heard the shower being switched off and he tidied everything up and went back into the living room surreptitiously.

It scarcely mattered. When she returned to the living she was dressed in a Soviet uniform with the green tabs of the KGB, she was also holding, a silver hammer and a silver sickle. Her friendly demeanor was gone and replaced by hostility. "You annoy me greatly Herr Obersturmfuhrer" she said.

Friedrich had jumped off the couch and backed away in terror. He realized that he had just put himself in a corner. She smirked in amusement and moved in closer "I gave you every opportunity just now to attack and yet you did not? What's the matter vampire? You afraid a woman you fucking Nazi piece of shit? Eh bitch?" she demanded angrily coming in still closer.

Friedrich cowered back further and said the worst thing he possibly could "A vampire? Me? What are you talking about? Let me out of here!" Friedrich had never faced a vampire hunter before, but he knew of the stories and they terrified him, more than almost anything in the war in fact.

"It's a sound proofed apartment you fucking Nazi pig! Nobody will hear you scream!" she swore "lying to the end" and with that she swung the sickle straight towards his heart.

Suddenly Friedrich eyes blazed red, a feral smile appeared on his face and his fear vanished. He felt wonderful, he felt insane, he felt like he understood everything, like he had found the meaning of life. It was the same feeling he had always felt in the war just as he was going into combat. His foot came out with the superhuman speed and strength of that he had been given and slammed into her chest sending her flying back into the wall opposite. He began advancing slowly, all the mercy, fear, compassion and guilt drained from him, replaced by the feeling of _war_.

She was a tough one and stirred quickly; suddenly he bounded forward, _the smile_ on his face as he seized her throat and threw her down to floor. She responded with a kick toward his most sensitive area but he easily dodged that and kicked her savagely in the face, breaking her jaw and causing her to cry in pain, spitting blood which unfortunately dried in the couch.

However her mouth was still bleeding and she was stunned from the blows and trying to recover and Friedrich was _thirsty_. He also felt like having his revenge. She had been deceitfully nice and had tried to kill him. He thought of snapping her neck and devouring her, every last part of her, like the others did at New Year's and Christmas. But then, a better idea came to him, as he calmed down and he relaxed his hold on the essence of war. He would humiliate her. He seized the hammer and the sickle from her enfeebled grasp and tossed them aside and grabbed her head. "Naughty, naughty" he said playfully, as he kissed her passionately on the lips, the force of his kiss drawing blood from her ruined face into his mouth. The taste of blood whetted his appetite, she struggled against him and reached down for a small knife in her jacket. Friedrich grabbed her arm and smiling with malicious glee, tightened his grip until she screamed in pain, he continued screaming as she screamed louder and louder until he felt the bones in her wrist give way as his inhuman strength crushed her. He felt something wet and stickier than water on his hand; he looked to see what it was. It was her blood. He looked at her in the eyes as she cried and he used his tongue to lick her blood off his hand, as if he was a child savoring the taste of ice-cream that had stuck to his hand. He looked to see that his grip had snapped her wrist in such a way that a bone was protruding from her skin and blood was coming out and seeping onto the wooden floor.

He bent down to lap it up and then hungrily stuck his tongue in her open wound. She screamed with rage and pain as he hurt her more. He noticed she wasn't trying anything else, but he was cautious. He came up, the experience of suddenly gaining the advantage overpowering him, he leered in at her, his eyes blazing red and he opened his mouth so she could see his razor sharp teeth. Her face was twisted, to his delight, in the inexplicable pain of the maimed. "Wouldn't want you trying to kill me now would I" he said. He brought his elbow down on her left shoulder breaking it. She screamed in fresh pain, and now both of her arms were useless.

He laughed at her pain and misfortune "You aren't very good at this are you?" he asked mockingly. She did not respond of course. Friedrich thought about the taste in his mouth. "Hmmm, yes, good" he purred approvingly, "You are a virgin and beautiful, you would make an excellent _companion_. Pity about that." Suddenly the best idea he had so far came to mind. "You know, people who are not virgins and who are drained by vampires become ghouls. Virgins who have had patience or terrible things happen to them are entitled to trample on those less worthy. Unfortunately for you meine schatze" he said as he looked seductively into her hateful eyes "I am not a true vampire, I know that I cannot make other vampires, only ghouls and ghouls that do not obey my commands. Still I think I'm going to enjoy this."

"You murdering fascist bastard" she said with hatred and spite "We'll get you! It may not be me, but we'll kill all of you!"

Friedrich had found this idea amusing and laughed maniacally. Then, his face contorting in rage and arrogance he acidly mocked her. "So you thought you could kill me? Me? Me who has slaughtered countless numbers of your kin and all for the sake of a madman I despised, all for a cause I knew we could not win? Me who escaped through Stalingrad, fought at Kursk and Kharkov? I who survived the American jabos, crawling in the earth like a worm and laughing while we were blown to smithereens? For such stupidity, you deserve this." With that he put his lips to her throat, he opened his mouth and put his razor sharp teeth over her, he felt an incredible thrill as her flesh squirmed underneath the touch of his teeth. His tongue slithered out to touch her neck. She moaned in disgust and fear. Then he came down, quickly and gently, his teeth penetrating her soft flesh and the blood flowing forth. He greedily consumed it all.

Friedrich sat down on his bed before changing. He could never help but feel enormously guilty about that time. He remembered how when she had squirmed with indignation and desperation at what was happening to her, while he had reveled in how he had used his awesome strength to turn the tables on her. It all thrilled him that she was bigger than him and had he still been human she would have been physically stronger than her. As he consumed her blood, determined to make her his undead slave, he was grateful that he had been forced by the Major to be the first subject. He was grateful that on December 15th 1943 they had drugged him so he would not feel anything. He was grateful and it had given him savage delight at remembering it as he bled her to death, that they had unwrapped the skeleton of _her_, opened the empty white jaws and then used the Hauptsturmfuhrer awesome strength to snap them down on all his main blood vessels, bleeding him to death, while stabilizing him with the blood of ghouls. When he finished he had looked down and seen the blood on his suit, tie and shirt. He had sunk back like some overstuffed leach on the couch and growled with pleasure.

The KGB had forced the apartment open the next day and found a dead Anna coming to attack them as a Ghoul, obviously they had contained her. Friedrich had only begun feeling guilty about two months after it, before then he had felt proud of it, as if he had at last proved his virility. He sighed with disgust and changed into his disguise. He could not be late.


	8. Chapter 8

Friedrich was just behind the Hauptsturmfuhrer at the dock. Some of the Naval personnel were still preparing the boat. Friedrich was dressed in a dark green long sleeved shirt and full length adventure khakis. He had good reasons, although he had been told vampire blood was poisonous to non-humans and something about its smell warded off non-humans, Friedrich tried to keep bare flesh down to a minimum. He did not want to test out that theory. The Hauptsturmfuhrer was dressed in typical tourist like clothing, a generic black t-shirt and grayish khaki shorts. His muscular physique was exposed as a result and Friedrich felt a surge of jealousy at the sight of the Hauptsturmfuhrer. In any competition for female attention, Friedrich would certainly lose to the Hauptsturmfuhrer. His feelings faded as his professionalism calmed him and he remembered that it was ridiculous for him to think about women. The closest thing he had ever had to sex had been turning that woman into a ghoul and the worst part was that it had been more akin to rape than to sex. There had been no joy, no pleasure on her part, not that it was to be expected.

Friedrich had to walk around the dock to get to the Hauptsturmfuhrer. As he did he saw Zorin Blitz lugging Tubalcain Alhambra across her back. She smirked at him as he held his glance level. "Frau Obersturmfuhrer" he said politely.

"Herr Obersturmfuhrer" she said wearily as she lugged the body of the unconscious vampire.

"Did Schrodinger wipe his mind of the memory of our location or did you?" he asked Blitz as they walked together.

For once she was not being too hostile, possibly due to the weight she was carrying or something else. "No, Schrodinger removed any memory of the ships but did not have time to remove all the other details the Major asked me to take care of." Suddenly she smirked again and looked at him sideways "Why? Did the Major not tell you?"

After having bragged consistently about how the Major confided so much in him, Friedrich found himself swallowing hard and suppressing a sour look as he said "No he did not, but at the same time I understood soon after Alhambra came in just what he intended to do."

She snorted they at last came level with the boat and dumped the other vampire into the boat, "still, I think you need to reappraise your relationship with the Major Herr Craebel."

Friedrich looked at her intensely and said "I don't think so, I was there before you and this is hardly the first time I have not been made aware of something. The Major does everything for a good reason and says everything for a reason and he means it. Perhaps you do not understand this?"

She shook her head and took out a cigarette and lit it "All I know is that now you look like what you are, a fool." Friedrich paid attention, expecting her to do something and chuckling softly when she did. As she had passed the Hauptsturmfuhrer her eyes had roved over his body. She seemed to sense his chuckle because she turned back and glared at him intensely. Friedrich was in such a foul mood that, whereas normally he would have recoiled, he instead stood still and calm and gave her a Regular Army salute. She returned him the insult with the finger and walked on. Suddenly, Friedrich turned and yelped with fright as the Hauptsturmfuhrer was standing in the boat looking at him with his normal expression. The Captain adjusted Alhambra's body then got in the driver's seat and began starting the engine. Friedrich quickly sat himself down as the gates to the Amazon River opened and they sped off into the night.

Friedrich was able to easily hold on and balance himself. His abilities meant that he was able to sense the shifts in the boat and adjust himself accordingly. He had done this sort of thing with his new senses for over 50 years, with no one, save the Major, to guide him. He looked over the Hauptsturmfuhrer, the man was, as always, focused on his mission, he was looking straight ahead. He had even worn that expression when he had been at Friedrich's operation, helping replace Friedrich's blood with ghoulish blood. They had not been sure it would work. Friedrich remembered lying there on that cold steel operating table, his body seizing and revolting, but unable to squirm in pain through the drugs and his weakness. The Dok had relished having a subject, and the Major had kept up a slight grin throughout, even while he had furiously pumped in Ghoulish blood along with the Hauptsturmfuhrer.

"Your blood does not react to Ghoulish blood Obersturmfuhrer" the Dok had said. "In fact the opposite happens, your blood takes over the Ghouls blood and replaces it with something better."

This had been two days before his operation and Friedrich had remembered feeling nauseous and weak, but also knowing he had no choice. He had sat in that disturbingly comfortable chair, shivering and nodding dumbly. "What do you mean Doktor?" he had mumbled weakly.

"You're a virgin Herr Obersturmfuhrer. The blood of a ghoul is just corrupted Vampire's blood, it is the blood of someone who was not pure enough to be a vampire or has not drunk vampire's blood. We of course cannot give you a vampire's blood in sufficient quantities for what we will do."

"But the Vatican…" he had wheezed, in protest, he did not want to end his life having been bled to death by those he had trusted, reduced to a souless zombie.

"Is giving us enough help already in Brazil and has provided us with much needed information and even the ghouls to bleed, all at considerable expense to themselves, not to the Reich. We cannot ask them for more. In any case it would do us no good to feed you a vampire's blood, such a commodity is hard to come by and we need to be able to repeat this process." Said the Dok.

Gradually what little blood was left in his body had absorbed the Ghouls blood, making it Vampire's blood and Obersturmfuhrer Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel, Vampire, had been born. The test they had subjected him to had been to hold his hand out to filtered sunlight. Under normal circumstances a Vampire would either faint or begin a much quicker version of sun tanning. It was not burning so much as the skin being burned by direct exposure; eventually enough exposure would be enough to kill someone. None of that happened. They had even cast him out onto a blue sky day and he had not burned. He even could eat and drink, to a limited extent. He had been exposed to a holy cross and he had not backed down. He had had holy water thrown on him, no burning. Yet he had all the strengths of a Vampire, it had been a success. Even the Hauptsturmfuhrer had smiled approvingly.

Friedrich remembered the first revelation to the inner circle. Rip van Winkle, always feminine and beautiful, especially in men's clothing, had been there. Zorin Blitz, appearing arrogant, masculine and yet somehow womanly, in her combat uniform had been there as well sneering at him when he walked in with a confident smile. Von Gentz had even been there. Untersturmfuhrer Von Gentz was there as well. He had been transferred, along with his men to the SS. The Captain, unlike most times, had been wearing a normal uniform, as had the Dok. Sturmscharfuhrer Schrodinger had not been 'born' yet.

The Major had walked in, with his distinctive knowing smile on and said "Welcome all, today a new age has begun and we will be able to turn the war around." All, save those in the operating room had stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Indeed, yes" suddenly his voice had become excited. With a dramatic flourish he had pointed to Friedrich "and he shall be the agent of our victory!"

The same three had looked in puzzlement "How? How will this worm carry us to final victory?" demanded Blitz haughtily.

The Major had smirked "It's simple. Zorin, try and hit him."

At first she had looked at the Major strangely, she obviously could not understand why he had given the order and further why Friedrich was still smiling. Eventually she had shrugged and came in quickly with a quick punch to wipe the confident smirk off of Friedrich's face. As he saw it come in, his eyes caught the exact trajectory of the punch and it although time did not slow down from his perspective, the clarity and time he had to think about what he was doing made it seem as though it had. He had easily dodged her punch. She had been unnerved by the inhuman speed of his dodge. She had turned to punch him again, and again, and again and again. Each time he had shifted his body or stepped out of the way. "You…you!" she swore at Friedrich "stand still damn you"

This had been countered with a punch that came in at normal human strength, but with inhuman speed and had knocked Blitz backward. She had stumbled and put her hand up to the lip where Friedrich's gloved hand had hit her, it came away bloody. For the first time in his life, Friedrich's eyes had glowed red and he thirsted for Zorin Blitz's blood. He wanted to knock her down, sink his teeth into her, _dominate _her, humiliate her. Suddenly strength which had been denied to him was there, and possibilities came with it. Then he had seen the look of fear, _fear_ for the first time in her face as he had advanced, his eyes glowing, and _the_ smile on his face. She had, for the first and last time, backed away from him, even as she had put up her arms in self defense. Friedrich had looked into her eyes, seductively, it was the look of the vampire that told its victim, there was no hope, they could not win, they could only submit and even prideful Zorin Blitz was swayed by it.

Friedrich's moment of triumph had been broken by the Major cackling, his head thrown back, his hands stuffed into his pockets, cackling. "Excellent, most excellent Obersturmfuhrer Craebel." Friedrich had remembered the others, especially Johan Von Gentz, and he had backed down. He had given one last smirk towards Blitz, bowed and stepped away.

Blitz's voice had been angry, yet shaken "Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, Herr Doktor! What…" she said her voice trembling as she pointed accusingly at Friedrich "what happened? What is he? Why are his eyes now red!"

Friedrich saw to his distress a look of horror and a hint of disgust on the faces of both Rip and Johan. His face had become regretful, even imploring as he looked at both of them.

"What is he?" the Major had giggled as he had taken his hands out of his pockets. "Well you should ask that question Zorin, for what our meek and mild mannered Obersturmfuhrer has become is the ultimate instrument of war, the being which can experience _war_ to its fullest capabilities, beyond anything an ordinary man or woman can experience. Truly he is to be envied." His eyes had flashed and smugness had vanished entirely from his face to be replaced by only more insanity. "He is a monster the allies cannot stop with normal weapons, not with bullets, not with grenades, he is a vampire!"

At this Friedrich had proudly flashed his razor sharp teeth.

The boat sped around a bend and Friedrich's thoughts had turned to the day that his friend, Untersturmfuhrer Johan Von Gentz, had become a vampire. He was the second oldest vampire in the Battalion and he had become this in early August 1944. The occasion had been the Warsaw Uprising.

After their conversation had been cut short the Major, the Hauptsturmfuhrer and the Captain had dashed forth into defensive positions. Friedrich had marveled as the Major had, with great precision and glee, mowed down foolish Polish resistance members. The Major's accuracy with an automatic weapon was stunningly good, very few bullets wasted ever. However at close range the Major was hopeless, he could never hit anything. They, along with a few others SD personnel had been the only ones in that building, so it was easy for the Poles to infiltrate their position despite the deadly accuracy of the Major, Friedrich and the Hauptsturmfuhrer. When the Major had turned to confront three Poles charging up the stairs he had emptied a whole clip at them and only hit one of them. The Major had been hit by a bullet which ricocheted off a table, had bounced yet again off of one of his buttons, but had imbedded itself into the soft flesh of his stomach. Friedrich had come just in time, swinging his SS dagger he had decapitated the Pole aiming at his commanding officer and then come in stabbing the second one through the heart. He had finished off the third by kicking the corpse of the second into the third. Together they had flown down the stairs, the fall breaking the neck of the third resistance fighter. Friedrich had ignored his urge to drink the blood that had been spilled everywhere from the dead and instead turned to the Major who had been flattened by the bullet and the rifle butt of the Pole who the Major had wounded. Even though he was bleeding, and the left side of his face bruised, the Major had still been smiling. The Major's blood did not inspire any thirst in Friedrich, only the familiar numb and foreboding feeling he usually had at the sight of the blood of dear comrades. "Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, I'll go get help!"

The Major had laughed and shook his head "Do not worry, you're thirsty Friedrich, please drink, I can dress myself."

Friedrich knew better than to question such an order. He had, not for the first time in his undeath, greedily lapped up blood and fed from the corpses of all three Poles. He had even not minded it when some flesh, from his bites, came into his mouth and he chewed on the flesh of what had once been living human beings. Although he never actively sought meat, he would be lying to himself if he tried to pretend that he had never enjoyed the few accidental nibbles he had. When he had finished he had looked up to see the Major, standing, having completed his Field dressing. "Why sir?" he had asked.

"It's simple Obersturmfuhrer, I want to experience war and part of that, the thrill, the essence of the enjoyment of war is getting shot, putting alcohol on your own flesh and blood when your instinct says 'no, no, don't it will hurt' but doing it anyway and loving the searing pain. To then stick in the needle and the fabric in your own skin, every nerve trying to fail you, but overcoming it. Then after all that, it is part of the experience of war to get up and fight harder still." He smirked "There are many, many more Poles we can kill today and we must or none of us will survive." He had picked up his MP-40 and performed a safety check "Obersturmfuhrer" he had said, his face turning towards Friedrich, as he did the light that had been obscuring his glasses, vanished. He looked into Friedrich with those insane, terrifying, yet warm eyes and noted gleefully "either finish your meal like a good boy and decapitate those pathetic men, we would not want them to turn into ghouls would we?" He had cackled insanely.

It was a joke, the Dok had been struggling to try and perfect a surgical procedure for creating Vampires, even from the bodies of those who had lost their chastity. So far it had not been working to well. They could use some actual ghouls to help with the process. Friedrich had dutifully dragged the corpses to the depths of the facility where the Dok could use them.

They had fought on until it was only himself, the Hauptsturmfuhrer and the Major left. The rest of the Security Force was under standing orders, since the Ghetto Uprising, to never emerge from the depths of the base, so that no one would think to target the facility. Neither could the three men retreat because then the facility would be discovered. Evidently, by days end, the Poles had decided they had lost enough people trying to take a relatively unimportant SS building. The Major had been wounded a second time and this time he had been unable to entirely hide his pain, even as he had smiled with fierce glee at the sensation.

Back in the boat Friedrich smiled, the Major loved every aspect of war, even the ones which hurt him, for some reason he enjoyed the pain. Again at an unconscious level Friedrich got it, but just what it meant was beyond him.

To crush the Uprising the dregs of the Wehrmacht had been put together, including the infamous Dirlewanger Brigade. The SS had been so afraid of a breakdown of discipline in that den of the most infamous lot of cowards and murderers that the Reichsfuhrer himself had demanded that the Major send the SS Military Police platoon of Untersturmfuhrer Von Gentz to help keep order.

It had not ended well.


	9. Chapter 9

_Note to readers: This is a very sensitive chapter. I _**DO NOT** _approve of _**ANYTHING **_that happened during the Holocaust. In fact I hope what is described here will keep the memory of it alive in our minds a little longer so that we may truly say 'never again.' As for the characters within, they're supposed to be morally reprehensible. It's _Hellsing_ all of them are. Integra even Seras, all psychopathic murderers. Furthermore I would not be doing Hirano Kouta's masterpiece justice if I did not make you hate absolutely everyone in the story._

They had dropped off Tubalcain just as he had woken. None of them had said a word. Tubalcain had smiled and waved goodbye as the boat sped in the opposite direction. He understood what he needed to do, and the reason for what had happened to him. He did not seem to even be bitter that he was most likely being sent to his death. How could he be so happy with the prospect of death?

Although Friedrich often thought that, for all he had done, for all he had gotten wrong, for all he might have done, he deserved to die. He deserved a horrendous death after what he had done. His enormous guilt made it no better. He looked to the Captain, a sad and thoughtful expression on his face. The Hauptsturmfuhrer's face had not changed. It almost never changed. Again Friedrich thought jealously of the Hauptsturmfuhrer. He had probably had a lot more fun in his life than Friedrich had! Friedrich's had been one long life of pretend, disgust, anger, failure, death, unfathomable hatred, refusal, denial, violence, savagery and every other possible grotesquerie of human nature. He was reviled by Zorin Blitz as weak, looked upon by Rip van Winkle as being amusing but ultimately harmless, any woman would surely run away from him if they knew what he was, and that was assuming he had any charm, which he did not. His hands bunched into fists and he growled with anger, as he thought of all that, all that he had never had a chance for. He had never had love other than from his parents, and even then they had brutalized him to get him to be silent, to never speak out, to stay alive and he had never, never checked in on them physically during the war. He had only heard when they had died and even then he had been too focused on his own misery, his own joy in war.

He broke down and sobbed "Oh god!" the word, uttered by itself or by any human was not enough to hurt a vampire, much less one who was non-Catholic, such as himself. "Oh god!" he wept unashamedly with self pity and rage at the life he had never had. He sobbed harder as he thought how his encounter with that Soviet woman could have turned out differently, but then he flattered himself. He was not good looking, he was not attractive, and there was no natural allure to him. She would have been repulsed by any gentleness he had shown.

He fantasized that after throwing away the dagger he could have said "Do you really need to kill me? I bear no ill will towards you. You have a mission, but what have I done to you, why do you want to so desperately kill me?"

No! No! No! It was a fantasy, it wasn't real! He had killed her, in a horrendously cruel and brutal way, she had not wanted any of it! It was all the more bitter to know that Von Gentz had found himself in a similar situation. Yes, with those Mossad agents who had kidnapped Von Gentz, knowing who he was but not what he was. He had charmed the female agent and confided to her what he was, broken free when the men had gone for a long time to arrange his passage out of Argentina. He had attacked her, but she had not resisted too much, because she was attracted to Von Gentz because…because…it just wasn't fair.

Friedrich smoldered with rage as he thought about all that he could have had, if it had not been for those fucking Nazis! They had destroyed everything he had ever believed in! Everything he held dear, everything! They had forced him to stay silent, sacrifice his principles, pretend to be one of them.

Then their war had shown that he was either inherently evil and had never believed what he held so dear or that they were right about human nature and its barbarity. Their temptations to the slaughter had caused him to commit crimes, before he had even met the Major that made it impossible for him to connect with foreign women. How could you honestly hit up on a French woman after the man you had killed a few weeks ago could have been her brother? How could you do that? How could you connect with German women, when most of them were Nazi harlots? How could you connect with women, when they pulled guns from under their skirts and began shooting at you? How could you connect and be normal when, as he had seen on the Eastern Front, he had hid under a pile of dead fellow SS troopers as Russian women had brutally mutilated the corpses. Especially how could you connect when you had watched in malicious glee, delighting in war, and watching Nazis be humiliated by those they considered to be inferior? At the same time you could not escape the fact that it was women brutalizing men and that made him scared. So how could you connect? How? Especially since, with good reason, the Soviets did not distinguish between good Germans, bad Germans, good Nazis, bad Nazis because they had all been evil and twisted. Every last man, woman and child. Perhaps it had been his fear of that dark muddy trench that had caused him to murder that woman, forty years ago.

But then it could not be, Von Gentz had had traumatic experiences and he overcame those. What was it about him that made him so different? What was he so happy with that he could forget all those awful things and carry on as if nothing of consequence had happened? Even that question was misleading for it was entirely possible that Von Gentz felt just as he did but he was just a lot better at determining that he would live life to its fullest and he did not have to be happy only in war.

At the end of all of it, he was grateful that none, save Schrodinger and the Major knew his mind and all that he felt. Then again nearly every other member of the battalion was inscrutable like he was, quietly professional. Was it possible, that beyond some members of his platoon, they felt the same way he did? Could they?

He looked over at the Hauptsturmfuhrer again. Friedrich grinned as he thought on something amusing, something that made him forget his anger, bitterness and resentment. The Hauptsturmfuhrer was tall, handsome, with distinctively European features and he was also a fine physical specimen. However he was not the perfect Aryan man. For a start his hair was light but not blond and his eyes were always red. Friedrich himself was only just above 170 centimeters in height and, like most of the members of Battalion, was not physically imposing, blond, or blue eyed. He was also bespectacled, which meant that he could not, by definition, be entirely physically healthy. Of course, being a vampire meant he did not need glasses, but all of those who had needed glasses were still proud to wear them. The Major, even when he had been slimmer and fitter, could not fit the description either. The Major was even shorter than Friedrich, 154 centimeters. Although he had the perfect hair color, his honey eyes were the wrong color, and like Friedrich he needed glasses. After the Major had received his Special Order, with his weight gain, he looked even less like a picture of Aryan perfection. Von Gentz had many of the same problems as Friedrich, even if his hair was a lighter brown than Friedrich's. He may have been better looking but he was still too short at 173 centimeters. In fact about the only member of the Battalion who Friedrich could think of who fit the description of the perfect Aryan man was a Feldgendarme, an Unterscharfuhrer Weiss. Weiss was tall, handsome, muscular, blond haired, blue eyed, the perfect Aryan man. In fact the Reichsfuhrer SS himself had remarked on this. There was just one problem: He was Jewish.

Friedrich leaned back and closed his eyes, not disturbed any longer for the moment. There was no such thing as Aryan Perfection, Germanic Superiority, Slavic Inferiority, the Eternal Jew or any of it. The Major had been right when he had come in to see Friedrich, after being released from French Captivity in late June 1940.

That was before the Major had become as he was now. As Friedrich remembered all too well, besides some of his tastes, his height and his glasses, he had been just another Nazi. Albeit the Major, back then a humble Obersturmfuhrer had been one of the few he could stand.

Then Leutnant Craebel had been relaxing leaning against a wall, drinking water, thanking God the Battle for France was over. The Major had come stumbling out of the crowd of released prisoners towards him. The Major's face had been one of anger, resentment and betrayal. Friedrich had smiled pleasantly, knowing the reason and delighting in the Nazi's humiliation. The Major had been at the receiving end of then Colonel Charles de Gaulle's counterattack at Montcornet on May 17th 1940. Friedrich had heard about it and at the time had regretted to learn that he had not died.

"Leutnant Craebel" the Major had said angrily.

"Yes Herr Obersturmfuhrer?" Friedrich had enquired politely.

"It's all nonsense, it's all a fake!" he had spat.

Friedrich was amused and could sense what the Major was talking about.

"Oh what is?" he asked agreeably.

The Major had seized him and led him out of sight so that no one could see or hear. "The whole fucking thing! National Socialism! Eugenics! Aryan Superiority! Germany! Hitler!" the last one had been the most agonizing for him to say "it's all a fraud!" he had sobbed bitterly into Friedrich. He went on, blubbering pathetically. "How else could you explain it? How could an Aryan like me be captured by inferiors unless they are in fact superior to me or I am inferior to them? How else can it be explained?" he had wept more, his tears soaking Friedrich's combat uniform. Friedrich had not had much patience for this silly pity for a despicable ideology. "Say it is not so Leutnant!" the Major had commanded through sobs.

"Well sir, the simple explanation is that you are right, it is all a fake. That's all there is to it."

The Major had backed away from him violently, his eyes blazing with hatred and rage. The Major regarded him as a newly discovered traitor. Friedrich was not afraid, he was glad to be able to say that.

"Yes" Friedrich went on cruelly "You are right sir, it is all a fraud that is what it is. I mean" he said chuckling, "think about it for a moment, during this campaign you have doubtless seen many killed by supposed untermensch and you yourself were bested by untermensch, there can be only one reason for this. It is not because you are weak, but because they are strong." Friedrich nodded his head at a column of surly French prisoners "not as strong as us evidently, but they are strong enough to kill us, to resist us fanatically at times and even to capture you. Armies may be strong, but not because of ethnicity sir, but because of the societies they come from. All men themselves are created equal, all ethnicities are equal."

"You…you…you…devil, you race traitor" the Major had snarled as he turned to go.

Friedrich had at that point been scared and called out to stop him, but keeping his level tone "think about it sir, if we were really so superior you would not have been captured. Also consider them" he said again pointing at the French column "some of them are handsome, more so than many of ours sir, some of them are taller than you or I. It does not mean that you or I are inferior, it just makes them human beings who have certain characteristics we don't, their country and ethnicity do not matter. What about all those Alsatians who have fought us with undying hatred? Do you think they cared about" he said sniggering, "race? No they cared about nationality, about their country, not some nonsense pseudo-science."

"But all those films of the sickly and inferior…" the Major had protested.

"Nonsense, all of them" Friedrich had said dismissively "you just find the worst examples of anything. Also" he said more gravely "think about it, Hitler will kill us. If you keep breeding inside a similar ethnic group forever and ever you will produce sickly children. We will ultimately become sickly. A true ubermensch is a combination of every ethnicity on this earth, his blood is the strongest, the most likely to be healthy."

The Major had stormed off away from the rest of the Germans. Over the next few weeks he had insisted Friedrich come with him as they toured the conquered country. The Major had drunk a lot, been rude to the French, whereas Friedrich had been kind, even conciliatory. In one instance in Paris where, more than almost anywhere else in France, the Germans and the Nazis were hated, Friedrich had complimented French beer. He had said it was more sophisticated and less crude than German beer. It had a certain love and gentleness that made one think more of barley fields at harvest time, rather than some smelly hovel. He had gotten warmer than usual hospitality for self-depreciation. The Major had sat downing glass after glass, brooding and crying bitterly.

One morning he had woken up and Friedrich began noticing a change. The Major was still sullen but no longer angry "Come Leutnant" he had said "we have only a few days left." At the end of the vacation the Major appeared to have moved on, he even had the hints of a smile on his face. He had been mild-mannered and pleasant in his command style throughout the rest of the year. The Greek Campaign had seen him hold level with his good-natured, indulgent command style and his tactical brilliance had quickly seen him promoted to Hauptsturmfuhrer. That incidentally was the first time Friedrich met the man who was sitting next to him in the boat. During the Greek campaign the Captain had been a silent terror, but he had talked, of course, much more often than he did now. In Greece he had met then Untersturmfuhrer Zorin Blitz, a member of the _Werwolf_. Both she and the Captain were members of that organization and Blitz had not been impressed at first, with the Major's choice of command style or his favored subordinate.

That had been the first time Friedrich had seen that impossibly threatening, sinister, friendly and insane smile. Blitz had said "Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer! You really must get a handle on your command and act like a true SS officer or we shall be forced to step in to bring some shape back to this unit!"

The Major had turned and given that smile, the smile Friedrich had seen whenever he was about to order something as sinister as mass executions or as banal as a gentle reprimand to his subordinates. "Really? _Frau_ Untersturmfuhrer." he said emphasizing the awkwardness of her position. The emphasis had caused Friedrich to snigger, something Blitz still had never forgiven. "You feel that there is a need to intercede in my company? In my company which has lost but one man killed and four wounded in this entire campaign even though we have been at the forefront of every offensive, every attack, and every counter-attack by the enemy. Even though we have driven superior enemies off of positions, with only ourselves and some artillery support, you consider this company in need of _help?_"

Blitz had looked uncertain and even scared as all around her _Grossdeutschland_ troopers had smirked and looked at the freak in a way that could only be described as _that_ smile. She had backed away, fearful. The Major had cackled madly afterwards but he still did not become what he was now until Operation Barbarossa.

Friedrich had seen the Major elated at their rapid advance, driving forward with zeal and always minimizing casualties while maximizing Soviet casualties, which was not difficult in those days. By this point the unit was a fully fledged _Waffen SS_ unit and they were at the forefront of many attacks. The Major was a favorite among the Regular Army men, because unlike other SS commanders he was approachable, not an ideological fanatic and, as always, indulgent of well intentioned mistakes and objections to his orders. He seemed to be happy in combat between armies. What began to break him and everyone else, was the depravity, the insanity of the occupations. The villages burned, the slaughter and the _Einsatzgruppen_, oh God!

The Captain and Blitz had been part of an Einsatzgruppe Friedrich was unfortunate enough to have to assist. They had rounded up Party officials, Jews, anyone _who could read or write_, and shot them in mass graves or deported them to die.

At one point Friedrich had gotten all people that this Einsatzgruppe was after in a town of 20,000. He had had them lined up, the men guarding them cautiously with their weapons ready for trouble. The Captain had come up, pulled out a regular C96 Mauser pistol, as opposed to the long barreled ones he had now, and begun shooting prisoners in the head one after the other. After having seen this done in three different towns, Friedrich's feelings had varied between wanting to laugh with pleasure, cry in shame or charge at the man in anger and get him to stop. He chose the latter. "No!" he had shouted. The Captain had not been ready when Friedrich had grabbed him on the arm forcefully, temporarily stopping the man's execution spree. The Captain had looked up, inconvenienced, and angrily, though for him, gently swiped Friedrich away.

Nevertheless the blow had been incredible and he had flown a full meter before landing on the ground, his glasses askew and the left side of his face starting to swell. He could hear the pistol shots as the Captain and now Zorin Blitz joined in.

From nowhere the Major had called out "Stop! That's an order!" in his commanding voice. Since it was so rare, everyone knew to pay attention when that happened. The Captain and Blitz had stopped. The Major had spoken "All of this killing is an unnecessary waste of ammunition and time. We will transfer these men and women to the _Allegemeine SS_. I think the prisoners are frightened enough!"

The Major had come over to Friedrich, who by that point had straightened himself out. "You must never do that again!" he said sternly "they will kill you if you do."

Friedrich's head had hung in shame "Jawohl Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer" he had responded. Later that night Friedrich had watched the Major silently weep. Over the next two weeks, as the advance on Moscow was called to a halt they had continued the murderous process. Friedrich had enjoyed commanding machine gun squads which fired into huddled, scared masses of civilians and had already begun grinning with malicious glee at the effects of this. How pathetic they were. Why didn't they rush them? Why didn't they try and take a few of the SS with them? They were so pathetic! How wonderful it was to hear the screams of terror or see the looks on their faces as they were mown down by rifles and machine guns firing in sync with the screams and the appearance of raw terror on their faces. The spurts of blood and the impact of the bullets close up and the effects on each individual were an occasion he wished he could freeze and examine every aspect of. He could remember laughing, as had the Major. The killing was getting to them, and they did not appreciate it fully, it gave them a thrill. Something in them had both snapped. Still it had not ended, the drive on Kiev had been brutal, grueling and murderous. Still more fighting the Red Army, still more murder of civilians.

Friedrich even remembered how fun the Babi Yar massacres had been. Rip van Winkle, an attractive female _Allgemeine SS_ Rottenfuhrer, who was an excellent shot with a Kar98 had joined them. It had been two days of non-stop fun, of executions and applauding with delight as the bodies dropped like rag dolls into the deep pits. It was amusing, he recalled, seeing how they fell all in different ways into the pit! They way their bodies had been broken after landing, or the unnatural positions they were in.

Trophies were wrenched from dead bodies. Fillings were pulled out of live people, sometimes with no anesthetic of any kind. Friedrich had joined in laughing and applauding at the screams and saying mockingly "You want a drink? You want a drink?" There had been photographs, inventive degradation of prisoners, shooting competitions on live targets. Oh what a joyous few days it had been! Even now the memory of those two days brought _that_ smile to his face.

Friedrich had even been given the honor of being given a full clip in his Walther P38 and participating in a game. It went like this: There are more sub-humans than there are bullets. See how many you can kill and in such a random pattern that they do not know when it will be their turn. The emotions of hysteria, fear, anger and hatred this had engendered in the victims while they had been helplessly tied up had been most amusing. He remembered they had all joined in laughing as they had seen Jews piss their pants in terror, sometimes even crap themselves. It was all a wonderful game and such things made the victims of one of the most reprehensible war crimes in history seem, sub-human, even to Friedrich.

The Major had set up a system whereby ten Jews were lined up in front of pits and you had to kill all of them with one clip of an MP40. Those you did not kill counted as one drink you had to buy someone else, or a pair of socks, either one was good enough. The Major had laughed in delight as he had played this game four times, the victims often screaming in sync with the ear piercing rhythm of the schmeisser. The sound of the gun firing and the loud dull thud of the bullets hacking at the flesh was one of the most inspiring in the world. When it had been their turns for this game, the Major, Friedrich and Rip Van Winkle had each sung _Der Chor der _Jäger from _Der Freischutz. _The Major had won nearly every time, at the time he was an exceptional shot at every range on the MP40.

Rip Van Winkle's preferred execution method had been to line up victims in a neat show. She would put the barrel of her rifle to the head of a pathetic worm of a sobbing prisoner and carefully align her sights with the heads of the others and pull the trigger. How many can you kill with one bullet? When she got three everyone had struck up with cheers and thunderous applause. Some of the men had wolf whistled as she had bowed, smiling beautifully.

Zorin Blitz had preferred to kill people by slitting their throats and Friedrich had joined the others in cheering her on. Then Sturmann Goltz had fixed his bayonet onto the end of his rifle. He would stab victims and then shoot them, then let the corpses drop by putting his boot into their dead backs and kicking them into the deep pits.

Babi Yar had also been where they had met the Dok, he had been a physician travelling from the Totenkopfverbande with the Einsatzgruppen. He had performed physicals on potential victims who seemed to be the most physically healthy and spared them from execution, they were to be used for medical experiments 'of greatest importance to the Reich.'

At the time everyone had been having such fun. Not long after though, came _emptiness. _Emptiness that was indescribable, emptiness that only a mass murderer, one who delighted in his or her work could know, yet at the same time…it…it…it was so hard because every last shred of your soul felt like it was leaving you, leaving you with nothing, with no personality, no moral compass, no morality, no humanity, no nationality, no ideas, nothing but your crimes. It had overwhelmed everyone. That had been the only time where the Captain had lost self-control. It also was the origins of Blitz's infatuation with him and her rivalry with Rip Van.

They had all been drinking, drinking, drinking, trying to…to…fill that emptiness, with drink. Or maybe, yes maybe, they were trying to slow the exodus of their souls with the depressants of alcohol. They just wanted to forget. The Captain, instead of looking serious and focused, had looked miserable and he had a look of unfathomable self-loathing on his face. Rip Van Winkle had been sobbing, the Major had had _that _smile on his face, but it had been uncharacteristically uneasy, as if anything someone said to him would topple him. Friedrich had a piercing headache already and was downing water, trying to stave off the vomiting his body wanted him to do so he would not suffer alcohol poisoning. Then he would remember what he had done and stop drinking water and grab at more schnapps or vodka and gulp down unhealthy amounts of the stuff. It was either to fill the hole or, subconsciously, he had been trying to kill himself. He was too much of a coward to do what had occurred to him a number of times in those three days after the massacre. He would drink himself numb, until he could feel nothing, nothing at all, till he had sated, but not filled that emptiness. Till he felt that the booze had become a substitute for his soul. Then, before his body could try and save itself, he would take out his pistol, or preferably a hand grenade, walk to a silent place and then destroy himself.

But he, and everyone else there, were fundamentally cowards. They could dash expertly from cover to cover, all the while with smug grins on their faces or at worst tense ones, showing no fear. They could gun down enemies expertly and with precision with either cold professionalism or mirth. They could be shot at and not cry, but after all that they were still cowards.

Friedrich had stopped at one point. He was too weak, and he knew he was going to threw up. He thought about going back to those pits, to fall into them, and to die, as he felt he deserved, in his own vomit, piss, excrement with the rotting bodies of the murdered, then his soul would return to him and he could be at peace, right now, he did not know who he was anymore. All of his principles had died, it seemed. The Major had collapsed and was either sobbing or laughing with maniacal glee, it sounded like both.

The Captain had groggily stood up and then fell back and laughed the hollow laugh of the suicidal and the unhappy. It was so soulless it struck terror into Friedrich, not because it was threatening, but because it showed that even such a cold-blooded killer, as Friedrich had thought the Captain was, was just as troubled, just as desperate. He stood up and stumbled over to the two women. Rip Van was shaking her head and sobbing asking "Why?" over and over again. After gulping down shots of Vodka, Zorin Blitz would shake her head, in denial as if to say 'no, no. I don't believe it. It can't be true, it's not possible.'

Friedrich had been sat between Blitz and the Major. The Captain had stumbled forward putting his arms around the two women for support not just to come onto them. To avoid the Captain's intoxicated swipe Friedrich had tried to move his head but he had fallen out of his seat and landed uncomfortably on the hay. He had groaned and felt even worse and he knew he was going to throw up, but he tried to hold it off, just a little longer. "Holding on, holding on" he had mumbled.

Above him he heard the Captain say in his growling, virile voice "You know what ladies, you know what? I say we wrap up a nice evening together! I don't know about you two, but I feel seriously under-fucked!" He had giggled unnaturally. It had been a warm night so when Friedrich shivered, he knew it was from a combination of his physical state and the further psychological unease generated by the Captain giggling. Sobbing Rip Van had come and put her arms around his neck and kissed him and cried into his shoulder, desperate for human contact. Zorin Blitz had stood up, swaying, in a grotesque mockery of her normal arrogant, dominant attitude.

"You're right Obersturmfuhrer; let's go help produce Germany's future soldiers!" They had stumbled off together, the Captain laughing with repulsively fake joy, Rip Van sobbing _Deutschland Uber Alles_ hysterically and Zorin Blitz singing _Ich Hatte Ein Kameraden_ in a hideously appropriate choice of song. Friedrich had watched them go and felt sick, but he could not vomit in front of his commanding officer and a man who he had come to consider a friend. He was, at the time, the Major's second in command. He had crawled towards a barrel to vomit into, hoping it was empty. He had found one near an open window, it was empty, thank God. He had barely hoisted himself up and waited for his body's resistance to give way. He tried to make it come out, but, it wouldn't. He cried from fear at the horrible taste that would come and with it the loss of the temporary stop gap to the maw that was devouring him inside.

Suddenly he had heard it, the dead laughter, clothes being peeled off, a disgusting imitation of anticipatory sexual pleasure as all three of them stripped off their clothes and felt each other up. Suddenly, the sound of a bed having weight put on it came to him and with his the gasps and moans of pleasure, but it was deadened by alcohol and was a repulsive imitation of intimacy and pleasure, it sounded more like the grunts of a group of lepers or…he had lost control and vomited, vomited to the sound of empty fornication ringing in his ears, reinforcing the indescribable moral void that they had joyfully thrown themselves into. He had heard tongues slithering over naked bodies and Rip Van, in a malicious and unconvincing imitation of her normal playful nature say to the Captain "Oh doctor, doctor, I am quite ill can you help me?"

"Eh?" the Captain had slobbered in a drunken slur "What...troubles you my dear?"

"Oh I have a terrible case of nymphomania, can you help me? Please doctor!"

"Unfortunately my dear that cannot be cured, it can treated though and there is only one way, come lie here!"

That grating foreplay had gotten to Friedrich and he thrown up once more, even though there was nothing left in his stomach and he was pretty sure in his intestines, his body was trying to purge itself, purge itself of the alcohol, but Friedrich's mind was trying to purge his soiled soul.

He had been leaning, groaning in the pain of the hung-over, thinking he was going to die. He would start to pray, but then stop himself, God was either dead or he wanted nothing to do with Friedrich, he was no longer a child of God, he was daemon. Then he heard Blitz's voice above Rip Van's hollow gasps. She sounded miserable "Hey I'm hungry, you got anything?"

"How about some meat?" The Captain had returned with a lecherously angry chuckle. Friedrich had begun to laugh at the awful puns and stupidity going on around him, but he couldn't, his head was pounding and it hurt him so much. The Major by this point, it seemed had fallen asleep.

Friedrich kept hearing the sounds of fornication and later, vomiting and more fornication from where he was slumped. He wanted to cry out in indignation, panic and beg for forgiveness, for mercy, for his life, soul and country back, but the very alcohol he had used to try and forget everything had deserted him. He could remember everything and he could not scream, he was trapped, trapped forever at the bottom of the pits of Babi Yar, the bodies falling on him, suffocating him. Meanwhile the sounds of _those three_ and their empty lovemaking filled him and he could see SS troopers walking, trousers unbuttoned, flies undone, pleasuring themselves with dead. Did he imagine it or was it real? Was he slumped outside that window or at the bottom of the pits? One trooper seemed to come towards Friedrich and because of the alcohol and the bodies which had suffocated him; he had no air in his lungs to protest, to scream, to beg for him to stop before…

Friedrich realized he was panting, sweating and felt like he needed to vomit again. The smell of the Rainforest was enough. He leaned over, put his head to his right so that his puke would fly away and let it out. After only one round he felt better, but much weaker than he normally would have been, he was as weak as a human in fact.

He leaned back in the boat and looked at the Hauptsturmfuhrer. Now Friedrich, after all these years of wondering, knew why the Hauptsturmfuhrer was never happy, why he almost never smiled. It was because the Hauptsturmfuhrer was not a cold blooded killer, or just because he had enormous self-control, it was because he, more than any of them, far more profoundly than Friedrich could ever hope to, would give anything to take back what he had done. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had never, ever, ever delighted in the kill, but Friedrich had, the Major had, everyone else had. Suddenly Friedrich saw the Hauptsturmfuhrer as being vulnerable. He kept that face because if he did not he would break down, he was too good a man at heart to delight in the slaughter and the blood. He stayed together because he willed himself to keep himself together and given the determined, focused expression on his face, it looked like it was a war he could lose at any moment.

Friedrich still felt weak and he needed to sleep, but there was one thing he had to say, one thing to confirm that he was not alone in how he hated himself, the ultimate doom he sensed. He looked mouth agape and hopeless at the Hauptsturmfuhrer and asked "We're both going to hell, aren't we Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer?"

The Hauptsturmfuhrer at first said nothing, did nothing, then he gave a slight nod and that was that.

Friedrich sighed hopelessly, shut his eyes and when sleep came he hoped that death would come at last for him. The sun was beginning to shine; it was going to be a beautiful day.


	10. Chapter 10

Friedrich woke as they were approaching Millennium's base. He understood now, having slept, why it was he was so uncomfortable. It was hardly the first time he had come to the conclusion. He detested sex because of Babi Yar and Babi Yar explained a lot of his animosity towards the Hauptsturmfuhrer and Zorin Blitz. This conclusion was hard to accept given how he was the only one who manifested any outwards signs of those days affecting him. The rest seemed to have moved on.

She had emerged from the incident more psychopathic than ever, relishing her transformed personality. The Major too had been transformed. For that matter so had Friedrich, he found war, _any _aspect of it to be that much more enjoyable after Babi Yar. Although his guilt would follow him after the massacre it never manifested itself with the same suicidal severity. The Hauptsturmfuhrer changed too after that, he became quieter after that and even more detached from his fellows.

The boat turned the corner into the stream leading up to the base and Friedrich was regretting that the boat ride would end so quickly. He would lose this pleasant time to himself, to think. The memories had troubled him a lot more since the Major announced they were going to war soon.

They had all awoken in a Hospital ward, supervised by the Dok. He had been checking all of them, especially the two women for damage. The Captain, as Friedrich was to found out just over a month later, was a Werewolf and endowed with super human strength. Normally he could control his force, but when he had been drunk he had lost his control and he had hurt the other two. Zorin Blitz seemed both distressed and annoyed by what had happened whereas Rip Van had been sobbing. He could hear with disgust as the Dok said to both of them, less with out of perversion as Friedrich later came to understand than with delight at examining devastation to the human body. "Das ist mein hand und das ist der speculum" Blitz had tried to give one of her imperious frowns, but from her hangover it was impossible, all should could do was wince in pain and groan as if begging to be killed.

Friedrich had tried to sit up but his head had hurt too much. He then remembered he was an SS officer and was afraid of disciplinary action which might be taken against him and he had gone low into the sheets, his eyes half open so that if anyone came to see him, he could pretend to be asleep. If he could not see them he could delay getting into a strafbattalion. Next to Friedrich the Hauptsturmfuhrer was sitting on his bed, an empty expression on his face.

Friedrich had noticed that the IV bag he was being given was full of water, replacing the water his body had raided to get rid of the alcohol he had tried to kill himself with. He swore, given how his head felt and the indescribable disgusting taste in his mouth that he would never touch another drop. Eventually however he was well enough to actually move his head when no one else was around. Then the Dok came around before Friedrich could react and he had said, through his strange operating spectacles "Really, Obersturmfuhrer you are not fooling anybody."

Friedrich had slowly sat up and looked at the Dok and only dumbly muttered "Obersturmfuhrer sir? I'm only an Untersturmfuhrer and after last night I'm sure not even that for much longer."

The Dok had smiled and shaken his head "Hardly for the efficiency and innovativeness with which you liquidated enemies of the Reich you have all been promoted up one rank."

Friedrich felt like he was going to be sick again, but fought it back. The Dok did not even offer him something to safely vomit in. "What do you need me to do sir?" he had asked dumbly.

"Get dressed and go sit by the Sturmbannfuhrer's bed, I will be along with water for you to drink." Friedrich had looked to his uniform which was hanging on a coat hook, and he was grateful he was in his underwear so that no one would have to see him naked, especially since Blitz and Rip Van were just literally next door.

As Friedrich had risen up and walked over to take his uniform the Dok had gone over to the Captain and said "Hauptsturmfuhrer you need to see to Unterscharfuhrer Winkler" which was Rip Van's actual last name "you hurt her quite badly and as an officer you should apologize." Friedrich had just started buttoning his shirt as the Hauptsturmfuhrer had nodded in shame.

He had looked up and asked "Where is my uniform?" in a dry raspy voice, in complete contrast to the cocksure voice Friedrich had heard last night.

The Dok had snorted with laughter and said "You, or one of the women soiled it last night with emesis, we are have it washed to try and get the smell out." The Hauptsturmfuhrer had put his head into his hands at this and sighed. "Go sit by that nice young woman and comfort her, you really did hurt her" the Dok admonished. The Hauptsturmfuhrer began sobbing. By this time Friedrich had his trousers on and was starting to button up his jacket. He looked to see where the Major was. He was still sleeping, or appeared to be sleeping by the window of the hospital. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had walked into the other room, head hung in shame. Friedrich had finished straightening himself out before walking over to see his commanding officer.

The doors to the base opened wide. The shadows of the base protected those inside from the sun. They came in and Friedrich saw Zorin Blitz, Rip Van and the Major waiting. The boat came to a halt. Kriegsmarine personnel came out to grab the rope that Friedrich threw out to them. The engine went silent not long after as they tied up the boat to the dock. Friedrich climbed out and the Hauptsturmfuhrer leaped out. Both stood next to each other. Friedrich looked up at the Hauptsturmfuhrer, nodded his head to show he was ready and they walked together to the three officers.

The very presence of all these people of whom he was uncertain combined with the presence of the Major, made him tense. Blitz was still smoking and Rip Van was holding onto her musket, Blitz was looking with contempt at Friedrich and Rip Van was looking at Friedrich, not because she liked the sight of him, he was sure of that, but because she did not want to see the Hauptsturmfuhrer.

He remembered now hearing the whimpers from the other room. Friedrich, his officer's cap on, gloves on and looking as if nothing were amiss had peeked into the other room, out of curiosity. His usual sad yet serious expression had been on his face as he had done so. The Captain was, with his usual cold face, hesitantly reaching out to touch a sobbing Rip Van, who recoiled from his touch. "She has suffered tearing and bleeding Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer" a middle aged, stern nurse had pronounced. The Haupsturmfuhrer had dropped his hand and instead continued looking at Rip Van, his face frozen in his controlled expression, either uncaring, or far more likely now that Friedrich had at last, he believed come to an understanding of that night, unsure what to do.

Zorin Blitz's face had been pained whenever she had moved. Friedrich had shaken his head and turned back to the Major.

Back in the present day he could see that Rip Van still was scared by the Captain, and he sensed it was something she regretted and he probably did too. That move had been a mistake. The Major was smiling pleasantly. "Alles in ordnung?" he asked as the two men reached.

Friedrich had smiled mischievously, sensing from the Major that another part of the plan was in place, one step closer to war. "Jawohl Herr Sturmbannfuhrer."

"Ah most excellent that man will certainly do his part and fulfill his instructions. Humans can be so easily bought off with promises of immortality, even if, such as he did, it involves betraying everything they swore to protect" he chuckled "how pathetic, they all are. It's free as well."

"I am most glad to hear that because fuel for that little excursion is going to cost us $50 and the maintenance will probably cost as much as the fuel. Little else around here is free" said the Untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler, the Battalion accountant, emerging to Friedrich's left.

The man was one of the tallest officers in the Battalion, but in every other way he fell down in being the ideal SS man. His body was sleek but not athletic and being a vampire accentuated how unhealthily pale he had looked when he had still been human. He was bookish, obsessed with the rules of accounting and he had admitted to Friedrich as they had both watched in disgust the liquidation of the Krakow Ghetto that he hated the regime, not just for its appalling financial corruption, but for the way it destroyed people's lives and thereby the wealth of the world.

"Zeitzler?" Friedrich had asked gently, right then and there "is there anything in life that you do not break down to finance?"

Zeitzler had looked at him for a moment a bland expression on his face and then said "No."

At first Friedrich had been outraged "Why you cannot do that, money isn't everything you know!"

"On the contrary Herr Obersturmfuhrer money is everything. Everything you see around us has its value in money. Everything is divided down to its economic worth, even in the minds of the most innocent child. It is simply the way the world works. To be sure there are those who place the value of money much less highly than others. There are those, not too dissimilar from myself, whose only goal is to manage and acquire money."

Friedrich had been puzzled "What do you mean not too dissimilar from yourself? Are you calling yourself a greedy banker and robber? If so, go join them!" he said indignantly pointing the Einsatzgruppe.

"No hardly Herr Obersturmfuhrer" said Zeitzler "I wish to acquire money, but I do not wish to have it in order to get more than I need in material comfort. I wish to have it because money gives mathematics a purpose, something that makes sense of the equations, it is a wonderful thing to have more of it, so that you may invest it, watch the world grow, give people opportunities to expand their ideas, make everyone's lives better."

"Well that's all very well and I am hardly one to deny how money has enriched our world but how do you say it is everything?"

"It is simple" Zeitzler responded, the light of the day whiting out his glasses, "when a man is poor, no matter how hard he works, any failings on his part, no matter how small, are tolerated far less by his family than a rich man who has more failings and simply delegates the actual work to others."

As a Social Democrat, this example registered with Friedrich but he still had not fully understood what Zeitzler was talking about. His brows had come closer together and his expression became thoughtful. He had gestured for Zeitzler to go on "please" he had said.

"The wife of the first man will nag the man that he is not working hard enough, even if he works half of his waking hours, perhaps more, that their clothes are not nicer, that their housing is poorer compared to others, that their children sometimes go hungry and look shabby in church. These will all be complaints even if the man is a loving father who does not hit his children and is faithful to his wife. The rich man on the other hand can buy off any sins with his munificence, it usually being but a fraction of what he earns. His wife and children will long for his attention but tolerate its absence and continue to stick with him as long as he continues to give them nice things. Now let us also suppose that this rich man is as caring as our poor man. Should he become the poor man several things could happen." There was a scream as someone was shot, but they ignored it "One is that his wife will leave him with the children because they no longer have a use for someone who cannot provide _money_. Another possibility is that the man, having experienced such a grave reversal of his fortunes will slip into a spiral which his wife and children will compound by somehow expecting him to provide them with the same lifestyle and proclaim their everlasting hatred of him for his inability to do so. Still another possibility is that they will love him still and stay with him because he is a good man, a loving husband and father and that is what is most important. Nevertheless they will always love him a bit less than if he was still rich. There are of course many possibilities in between these three and it is a labored example, but do you see what I mean?"

Thinking about that issue had allowed Friedrich to blissfully ignore another terrible atrocity and go to bed feeling much better than he had in the morning.

The Major had turned and smirked at the shadowy figure. Zeitzler face was illuminated only by the flash of his spectacles. "Ah Untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler, is there any particular reason we have the good fortune to see you here?"

Zeitzler was so good he was arrogant and so he did not show the Major as much respect as the others. At the same time he made up for this by never, ever, questioning an order, except when it came to money of course. "Well sir, I came here to talk to Obersturmfuhrer Craebel about his costly little outburst!" he said irately.

The glasses flashed in Friedrich's direction. Friedrich let out a sigh, much as he liked Zeitzler in a number of ways, he could not stand his lectures. He braced himself.

"Do you realize Herr Obersturmfuhrer that you have cost a full 25 cents for those bullets! Those bullets alone by themselves cost us a full quarter of a dollar! It is unacceptable, do you hear me? Unacceptable, that there should be such rampant waste and abuse on your part sir for some childish political outburst!" Zeitzler was shaking with rage and he pointed a finger accusatorily at Friedrich, quivering, a mad expression on his face, his eyes still concealed by the illumination of his spectacles. "You are one of the worst on this base Herr Obersturmfuhrer! You have consistently wasted ammunition over the years costing us three whole dollars in unnecessary expenditures!" he was now stomping one foot, repeatedly in his fury "No more than three dollars, I have to order more ammunition from the dealers, which costs us more money due to the freight" he was in tears now "Oh how you frontkampferen never, ever appreciate the torment and agony you put me through!" he concluded tearfully.

Friedrich decided that it was long overdue for Zeitzler to get something in return for his rants, which he had patiently borne. He stepped forward a stern expression on his face. His only regret was that he was not in his normal Feldgrau uniform to give the more junior, yet taller officer a lecture. Friedrich jabbed his finger into Zeitzler's chest "And you Herr Zeitzler have even less of a moral compass than any of us! Who was it jumped all over the bodies of the dead at Malmedy, giggling like a little school girl when you discovered a penny? You dummkopf! You are the one who suggested we waste valuable resources and _money!" _Friedrich spat with mockery and vitriol "by trying to smuggle all those Gottverdammt paintings out of the fucking Louvre, while the fucking FRENCH RESISTANCE was shooting at us! And you said" he now dropped into a cruel imitation of Zeitzler and began prancing around on his tiptoes an exaggerated haughty expression on his face."Oh no! You mustn't shoot back! You might damage a lot of what we are trying to get away!" his voice returned to his normal indignation and he thrust an accusing finger forward again "then why did you make us go in there in first place you fucking idiot? You were so clueless that you could not understand how the French hated us so much they would be willing to destroy much of their national heritage simply to get a few more of us! And you lecture me on economy?"

"Why you…" Zeitzler said and stormed forward, coming at Friedrich his fists raised. The Hauptsturmfuhrer stepped forward his right arm outstretched holding Zeitzler's head. Zeitzler frustratingly swung his arms past the Hauptsturmfuhrer trying to strike Friedrich. Friedrich glared back at him.

The tension was dissolved by the happy laughter of the Major "Oh gentlemen! Gentlemen! Do contain yourselves; such fury should be saved for the enemy!" Rip Van was giggling, with a deceitful innocence and Blitz was smiling with a quiet happiness.

By now Zeitzler was tiring, but he kept at it, the Hauptsturmfuhrer let him go and Zeitzler's momentum carried him forward, he fell at Friedrich's feet. Friedrich sighed with resignation "Will you at least save your worries Zeitzler? We have more than enough left, more than enough" Friedrich said referring to the vast amounts of money and valuables that were at Millennium's disposal.

"Indeed" chimed in the Major cheerfully, walking up to where Zeitzler was picking himself up "you have done an excellent job Untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler in keeping our assets intact, but now it truly is time for the war and no expense can be spared." The Major reached Zeitzler as he stood up and the Major smirked, his eyes concealed by the reflected light on his glasses "and think of all the Banks in London!"

At this Zeitzler's face brightened considerably "Oh yes! Oh yes!" he gleefully said "Thank you Herr Sturmbannfuhrer!"

The Major's smirk held "Now please Untersturmfuhrer, continue with your work and try and develop a plan where you husband more resources during Operation Seelöwe 2."

Zeitzler clicked his heels and gave a salute "Jawohl Herr Sturmbannfuhrer!" he then gleefully skipped away.

"Truly sir" remarked Friedrich to the Major as they watched Zeitzler skip away merrily "we are all misfits here, are we not?"

"Indeed my good Obersturmfuhrer we are, but together, as one, we fit together and come to a synergetic discipline that even during that best and most nostalgic of wars we could never quite manage." _That _smile appeared and the Major continued, his eyes intense, welcoming, insane and fearsome all at once. "In the war we struggled on as individuals, not part of the ideal paradigm of the SS, and we were harassed as a result by one and all, but we overcame that and have outsmarted all of them! We cheated them when they thought they could use our talents for their ends without us noticing, all the while claiming to be geniuses and supermen! But now they are dead and those that are still living shall watch with anger and resentment as we do what they could not and so much more, for soon this world will blaze in hellfire and everybody, the Nazis, the English, all who regarded us as pathetic and insignificant shall remember when they feared us, when their bravado rung hollow in their own ears!"

All save the Hauptsturmfuhrer now had _that _smile on their faces, Friedrich could feel himself ready to spring forward and attack, he had been wound up for over fifty years and yes, yes! He wanted people to remember it all! Babi Yar! Warsaw! Stalingrad! Berlin! Paris! Kursk! Smolensk! Normandy! Anzio! All of it, he wanted them to remember. His fists clenched up, and he gave a sinister chuckle along with the Major, Blitz and Rip Van.

"Come get ready" said the Major "We shall now overview the preliminary moves such as they are, all in one piece so that you may understand more of what we are doing."

His eyes still glowing red, Friedrich turned and bowed to the Major "Jawohl Herr Bataillonkommandeur."


	11. Chapter 11

Friedrich was happy to be back in Feldgrau again, he did not feel natural in civilian clothing, even in his favored business suits. He had slain any hope for a civilian life in the pits of Babi Yar and many times since then, each more gleefully than the last. As the war approached he was becoming more reconciled to his life choices. He was who he was, a killer, an innocent, a Nazi, an intellectual, an SS officer, a Social Democrat. He was many things and all of a piece. He reflected on this as he straightened the Iron Cross around his neck and looked at himself in the mirror, smiling happily for the first time, in a long time, at his reflection. He even proudly flashed his razor sharp teeth and noticed that when he smirked he even looked more appealing. For once he did not think about that apartment in East Berlin with the shame of having murdered someone, but regret that he had not been wearing his uniform in that apartment. If he had been, he thought now, he might have been able to pull off not killing her. The SS uniform transformed him from being a short, frightened, insecure, guilt ridden man, into a hardened, seductive killer. Somehow it made him more pleasing to look at, more masculine, more powerful. He clicked his heels, stretched out his right arm to its full length at a 45 degree angle and gave a proud "Sieg Heil!"

He smirked and walked out of his room to head to the base command room. He felt like he had during the war, when he was part of a conquering force, one that defied its more numerous and more powerful enemies to the bitter end. As he walked down the halls, he took it all in and at last felt he understood the reasons for some things around here. He also felt foolish for not realizing all of it sooner than he had. He had realized the discrete components, but only seen them as separate phenomena, not as part of a greater whole.

Millennium was not a nostalgic bastion of Nazism and Nazis. It was first and foremost a collection of German soldiers. They chose to wear the dagger runes of the SS and the death's head and to embrace the symbols of the Nazi Party, not because any of them had any time for Nazi ideology or the 3rd Reich because here they represented the highest, purest manifestation of the spirit of German militarism. After all if they wanted to be Nazis they would wear black uniforms, not Feldgrau uniforms. Except for the Opera House there was not a single black uniform on this base. There were no SS combat camouflage fatigues, only Feldgrau uniforms and greatcoats. There were no pictures of Party leaders but of German Generals and SS Generals who were not fanatical Nazis. Yes that was it, they were not Das Letze Bataillon des Nationalsozialistischen Deutschen Arbeiter-Partei but Das Letze Bataillon des Deutschen Militarismus! This was a triumphant almost exhilarating thought!

This made him feel better about being with the Battalion. The Nazis were pathetic, cowardly, racist, self-aggrandizing phonies! When Molotov had demanded that Hitler show him the program of the Nazi Party, Hitler had had to admit in mumbling shame that they did not have one! "How can you call yourself a Party and not have a program?" the Soviet Foreign Minister had demanded. Indeed! They were pathetic, without harnessing powerful forces imbedded in the German character such a group of ingrates and lowlifes could never have hoped to over throw his beloved Social Democratic Party! The Nazis had only been successful because, he at last realized, not knowing where these revelations were coming from, they had brought the ugly, yet dominant aspects of the German character to their highest manifestation. Sexual depravity, hatred of foreigners, an inability to acknowledge that defeat came from one's own weakness, not simply from the deviousness of the enemy and treachery of those close to you. The belief that Germans had the right to ground others underneath them, haughtily crush enemies and treat the defeated as if they had been easy prey even when the victory had only come at an enormous cost. All was forgotten, lost in a fantasy of imagined German superiority! The Nazis had merely identified these characteristics and somehow brought them out up and beyond anything any other of the right wing pigs who had led his country had been able to do!

It made the Battalion's existence delicious and exciting, not reprehensible, that it was the specter of German Militarism that would light the world on fire and trample on the decadent world that had begun forming! The Americans and British who took a sick savage delight in the sadistic killing of a foreign enemy that would not imagine nearly so quickly inflicting such a fate on Americans had never experienced wars. They could never comprehend the feeling of spiteful, arrogant combat boots on their throats. They could only masturbate to the idea of standing resolute before the firing squad of their enemies! They could imagine emerging practically unscathed from a fight against a disciplined, professional and more numerous Soviet Army, basically all because of the 'superiority' inherent in being American or British. Such sentiments were despicable and the society that encouraged them so actively deserved to know all too painfully what war really was! They deserved to know fear as they discovered the enemy was better than they were, superior, more cunning, more murderous and more fanatical than they could ever hope to be. They deserved to see the undying hatred as the wounded wasted the last of their strength trying to take one more of the enemy with them! That was what his country had been like, that was what the 3rd Reich had been like, the Germans could never imagine defeat and never imagine how the very bullying attributes they used to get their way would engender undying hatred for them, enemies whose only thought was to brutally slaughter Germans from youngest to oldest! That is why they had deserved what had happened to them! Everything! Everything!

Oh the thought of all of it made him angry and exhilarated at the same time! He loved thinking of it, it filled him with energy, his eyes blazed red and he felt strength, strength as he had not felt in a long time! Strength that would allow him to charge forth and gleefully rip the arms of an SAS soldier or a Gurkha, cackling madly as the elite soldier discovered he was all too vulnerable, all too soft, all too weak, as part of what had always been with him was taken from him forever and devoured before his very eyes!

Friedrich breathed in heavily and walked with true purpose, German militaristic arrogance for the first time in a long time. "I belong here" he said growled happily. He only regretted that Anna could not have seen him as he was now, then, undoubtedly she would not have been repulsed by him but instead drawn to him and _his power!_ The other members of the Battalion he passed noticed the change in his attitude and they saluted him, _the _smile creeping on their faces as well, and their eyes blazing red. Maybe they did not fully know what Friedrich did, but they got it. Every one of them understood just what they were here for, what they represented and they were happy.

He had calmed down by the time he came to the briefing room, walking in with his eyes their normal cool dark brown, but _the _smile still across his face. The Major was sat on the command chair, his face obscured by the shadows in the room. His glasses presented two blank discs. His legs were folded and his hands were enmeshed together, resting on top of his knees and he was smiling. "Hello Obersturmfuhrer Craebel you look much better, much happier even."

Friedrich had given a slight bow "Yes Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, thank you."

The Major unfolded his hands, then his legs and stood up, his eyes still obscured by the light on his glasses, "Do tell Obersturmfuhrer Craebel what caused this sudden change of heart? It seems like you are more at peace with yourself, is that not so?"

Friedrich's smile held, he knew the Major better than to be surprised that the Major was able to read him so easily. "Yes sir, I think, at long last I have ceased to have any reservations about why I am here and what we are all doing here." His eyes became more intense but did not change. "After all we are hardly the villains in this world, we are hardly the worst of the murderers, at least we are direct about what we are doing, why we are here and what we truly want. The Vatican, Hellsing, all of them, all hypocrites and so skilled at self deception they cannot even sense it."

The Major stepped out of the shadows and into the light, his eyes were mischievous and insane, his smile had faded to a smug grin. "Obersturmfuhrer can you tell me what we are then, have you realized it, do you _truly_ understand why we are here and why all of us love war beyond anything else that we have ever experienced and have the only desire to experience more of it and perish within it?" He said this in his normal voice, but Friedrich could sense a hopeful, anticipatory edge to it.

Friedrich swallowed, somewhat nervously, obviously the Major would be elated if what Friedrich had thought through was truly the ultimate truth. He did not want to let his friend and commanding officer down. He smiled "Millennium is not an ode to Nazism or to anti-Semitism or even to some idea of German patriotism but to German militarism and the spirit of what is behind German militarism. German militarism's goal is not für gott und vaterland, but simply to motivate people to wage war and to its most savage level. Millennium is here because we loved that spirit and we love to wage war because war makes us happy."

The Major's smirk deepened "That is only half of it, do you have the rest?"

Friedrich frowned in puzzlement "The rest sir?"

The Major nodded "Yes there is more to it and I can see you have not discovered yet what that more is but you are well on your way." He turned away from Friedrich sharply and faced the world map, with an Iron Cross signifying their position and a British flag the location of London. His arms came behind his back and he spoke, with an inquisitive tone, like a teacher lecturing his pupil. "There is so much more to why we wage war that you have not yet discovered and why human beings, even those who write beautiful poems on its tragedy, love every aspect of war and never stop fighting. You, Friedrich, back in June 1940, began to show me the way, the way to happiness, how the world actually works and what human beings really are beneath our pretensions to omniscience, omnipotence and universal love." He turned and Friedrich could see his mouth was curled into a smirk "The strange thing is you yourself illuminated this path but you are still not fully aware of it, you are too wrapped up in antiquated notions of Justice. You are too focused on establishing an equilibrium, an end to history, a harmonious and virtuous state of the world." He turned all the way back to face Friedrich "I know what will show you the way to complete understanding. After we are done here, go see Untersturmfuhrer Von Gentz and get him to tell you about everything that happened when the Israelis tried to take him, you may begin to understand."

The door opened behind Friedrich. He turned to see all the officers of the battalion walking in. All of them were there, the Hauptsturmfuhrer, Rip Van Winkle, Zorin Blitz, Johan Von Gentz, Josef Franken, Hans Zeitzler, all save the Captain with slight smiles, all excited at the coming war. Friedrich withdrew to join the semi-circle of officers near Zeitzler and Von Gentz. The Major stayed standing, his eyes obscured and a smug grin resting calmly on his face.

The Major spread his hands so that it was clear he was considering each one of them when he spoke "Meine Kameraden, it has been a very, very, very long time since we have come here. You and all the troops under your command have performed admirably in the meantime, tirelessly executing their duties and tolerating the grim isolation it is necessary to endure here most of the time. You have kept everything battle ready, you have not blown our cover. All of this is extraordinarily difficult, especially since you have not had a chance to truly enjoy your immortality and reap many rewards. For this all of you are to commended and you are to pass this message along. As a reward" he said with his smug grin changing to a mischievous one "we shall double the number of blood packs for their birthdays and New Year's this year." Friedrich turned to Untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler and saw tears of anger welling up in his eyes. "Untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler" the Major said "you will see to this."

"Jawohl Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" Zeitzler sobbed.

"Gentlemen we have all done our parts in preparing for the war, each of you have seen the smaller picture of what you have handled, it is now time to put most of that together." The map behind him changed to one of the south of England. "This gentlemen is our target, the one which eluded us, the one that since has thought itself superior as a result of a victory granted to it only through American wealth and Soviet determination. We shall teach them a lesson and" he said chuckling "show them what it truly means to be at war." All the officers, including Friedrich smiled maliciously. "The first part of our attack is diversionary, to assess the strengths and weaknesses of Hellsing more fully and to put our enemies into an uncertain frame of mind. You may or may not have noticed the absence of the Doktor and Tubalcain Alhambra from the base. They have both been assigned duties outside the base relevant to our overall plan. I anticipate…" the Major said chuckling "that Hellsing will not see that everything they do, every fledgling which we create, everytime Alucard is unleashed is just one more step they take down the path we are guiding them on." He smiled and looked at Friedrich "Obersturmfuhrer Craebel here was instrumental in planning this part of the operation and he can fill you in on something he and I personally have been working on."

Friedrich had not been expecting to be called forward but he was not unprepared either. The luncheons were, in Friedrich's mind, social events, but often they did not involve simple idle chat. In fact Friedrich enjoyed his work so much and the intracacies of tactical manipulation so much that he did not consider it as work, it was a pleasure. He turned and smirked at Zorin Blitz who had a puzzled look on her face, causing her to grit her teeth in anger. This pleased Friedrich and he grinned viciously at her. Without stepping forward he spoke.

"Jawohl Herr Sturmbannfuhrer. This Battalion has had an informant inside Hellsing since the war. You may not ask me of its identity for I do not know who the informant is, only the information it provides. What it has identified are particularly isolated communities that can be attacked without drawing undue public attention, which for us is undesirable until" his blazed red for an instant then faded "the last moment. In particular we have need of drawing the attention of the Vatican and goading them. The Vatican, although it may now publicly present an urbane, cosmopolitan" he began getting angry as the memories of the war and knowledge of the Catholic Church filled "accepting, reconciliatory face to the world. They are frauds of course, they desire extermination of all non-Christian peoples from the face of this earth and even more than that they wish to humiliate those who broke away from them without having to endure what our country did in its struggles against papal dominance." Zeitzler coughed rudely. Friedrich smirked but did not look at him "Herr Zeitzler are you a Catholic or a member of the SS?" Zeitzler fell silent and stood straighter "I thought so." Friedrich continued "We also know they barely tolerate Hellsing because they use a vampire, and worse, the most infamous vampire in the entire world to hunt other vampires. This in addition to the Anglicanism of Hellsing means that the Vatican will strike Hellsing as soon as it possibly can to destroy it. When this happens, in order to save itself from the forces of darkness, England will have to convert to Catholicism, so goes the Vatican's thinking."

"And just how do you know this?" interjected Blitz nastily.

All of the other officers, except the Haupsturmfuhrer and the Major shot her a withering glare. Friedrich looked at her, an imperious expression on his face, "It is inevitable that the Vatican should delude itself into thinking this way. They helped us because they thought we would help them in a crusade against the Soviets. Their thinking is not grounded in reality or in the way human beings and vampires act. They believe their faith is pure and that this means that all who do not follow it are impure, either fit only for death, or weaker than they are by their very impurity. Even though the Vatican is a fearsome enemy, such a world view clouds their judgment and they have never thought things through too carefully." He turned back facing the Major "So the best way to start tensions between Hellsing and the Vatican is for there to be an outbreak of Vampires in Great Britain and worse for Alucard to" his eyes blazed red "turn a woman."

"Why a woman?" asked Rip Van Winkle.

The Major answered "That is how the tyrant believes he demonstrates his power over others, his ability to charm and amass women unto himself. In doing so he demonstrates to his mostly male enemies his power in every possible definition that one can render unto that word." He turned to Friedrich "Herr Craebel you have most excellently laid down my line of thinking and I shall now take over." Friedrich nodded, glad to have the Major explain things instead of him. "Not only will Hellsing using another Vampire enrage the Vatican, it will signal for them the imperative to destroy Hellsing and Alucard because Alucard turning a woman will tell them that he is on the march again and that he has designs for power and ultimately to overthrow his enslavement." The Major chuckled "Truly that one is greedy, yet regarded as modest, sadistic, yet regarded as a hero, and power hungry, yet regarded as loyal simply because he serves a 'righteous' faction." The Major stepped forward, and although his grin remained the Major's eyes told Friedrich he was furious, something that almost had never happened with the Major since June 1940. "We on the other hand do not delude ourselves into regarding ourselves as a 'righteous' faction." The anger faded and he was calm once more. "Obersturmfuhrer Craebel and I have chosen the best candidate, the one most likely to be turned by Alucard when driven to the edge" His voice became excited as he shouted "Seras Victoria!"


	12. Chapter 12

Johan von Gentz was used to surprises from the Major at this point, but the sudden triumphant proclamation had surprised him in that neither he, nor anyone else in that room besides the Major, the Hauptsturmfuhrer and Obersturmfuhrer Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel had heard of this person.

The Major had flashed a picture of a young, beautiful, blond, blue eyed, buxom woman standing straight and looking unapproachably professional in a police academy photograph. For a moment Von Gentz thought of those annoying Reich propaganda of the ideal German woman and this one came close to it, if in appearance only. Von Gentz had felt the need to speak up "Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, how exactly do you know Alucard will turn this woman?" He and every other officer could see the brilliance in getting the Vatican involved and Hellsing looking every which way for threats as a prelude to the war, but this aspect eluded him.

"As has been said Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz" the Major responded "We are going to corrupt humans and even existing vampires and turn them to our will and get them to do our bidding. They will attack where we command them" he paused and with thrillingly unnerving certainty and malicious delight declared "I know it! In any case this girl is perfect because of her undeniable attractiveness, a prime target for someone as tyrannical and corrupt as Alucard. Furthermore her past, her actions, her childhood and her desperate attempts at grasping at an innocence she really does not have but desperately wants make her a prime suspect for one who would resist in the face of an onslaught of ghouls and become a vampire rather than be defeated, rather than die cowering, unable to be victorious."

Untersturmfuhrer Franken spoke up. "Why is it that the background of those who become vampires is almost always the same?" he observed sardonically.

"It is not always so and each has different reasons for becoming a vampire" the Major shrugged "her reasons are different to yours, meine kameraden. There is of course the underlying desire for us to be young, or rather, forever at our most useful, but above all there is the desire to be powerful. You each have a story where you broke down, where you were not strong enough to do what you needed to do to stop something you did not want to happen. In each case the alternative was death and ignominy." The Major's smile became calmer, yet the insanity in his eyes, the insanity that was in all of them, stayed there. "For Obersturmfuhrer Craebel it was become a Vampire or be tortured by the SD and die in an indescribably gruesome" he chuckled at this and Johan noticed Friedrich cringe and gag "manner. He did not have the strength to defeat and evade the paranoia of the Nazis." The Major turned to Johan. "You Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz did not have the strength to maintain control over infamous scum and murderers, feared even among the SS, you did not have the capacity, the power to deal with them and they shot you because they could."

Johan blanched, the memory shook him, he shivered and began sweating. The Major shook his head sadly "You were defeated by the sort you despised all your life, the false hard men, the strong who destroyed the more virtuous weak. You could not bear to let this happen. So you begged your friend to help you."

Even now Johan von Gentz could remember it, the lack of discipline, the lack of camaraderie, except among themselves, their sole purpose in life was to murder and simply because they knew murder and they liked it. It should have been a natural fit, but they were not disciplined and they resented authority as much as they loved killing, a bad combination. Anyone _on their own side _who they did not like they shot and what was worse, these killers, unlike the members of the Battalion could give but were never ready to take.

When they had run after failing in a night time attack on a Polish position, Johan remembered trying to stop them. He was alone, the rest of his men were scattered, trying to round up the looters, he was on his own, stupidly he was on his own. The Regular Army Gefreiter and the Feldwebel who he had seconded to help him, were both dead. One had been killed by a sniper, the other by a mortar shell. There were too few men, there was too little ammunition and so many of the enemy.

They had been assaulting what had once been a nice district of Warsaw and Johan was taking cover behind a brick wall that had encased the outside seats of what had once been a café or restaurant.

It had been night and those cowards were falling back! They still outnumbered the Poles, they still had enough ammo, but they were falling back! All it took was them shooting at them and they ran! He had no time for cowards such as them. He was had orders which allowed him to exercise his discretion in what constituted a breach of discipline and how to deal with it. Still there were more of them than him and he deplored killing his own side unless it was necessary and troops to put down this uprising were limited. He had leveled his MP40 at the retreating Dirlewanger troops and commanded "Stand and fight!"

There had been no argument, nothing said by the others, not even an indication on their faces, no regret and with no regard to the gravity of what they were doing. Several of them had leveled their weapons at him, casual expressions on their faces and fired at him. Two Kar98 bullets had hit him, one in the right arm and the other bounced off the metal _Feldgendarmerie _gorget to imbed itself in the left side of his upper body. He had fallen backward, bleeding and in shock at having been shot and _by his own side_ so casually. He remembered squirming on the ground, trying to prop himself up against the half destroyed wall when one of the passing troopers had fired his pistol into him, the bullet clipping the base of his spine.

How he had screamed in pain! How he had cried with rage, how he had gasped. Above all the complete horror he felt, when he realized he could no longer move his legs, he was stuck and he was bleeding. He had passed out leaning against the low brick wall.

He had no idea how long he had lain there, unable to move from the shock and uncertainty of what would happen, he could not even see his face was lying on a rubble pile. How had he fallen? Why had his body betrayed him in his unconscious state? The loss of blood, thirst, the dust in his mouth and the dirtiness made him cry with despair at the thought of dying this way and he was determined not to. When he tried to move the bullet would make him stop, he had never felt such pain! Every nerve was in tightening, piercing, knotting pain. The pain would make him thrash and that would only make it worse, all the while spinning out of control, until he fainted temporarily then came back almost immediately.

He remembered exhaling and noting the dust in his mouth and his thirst. He tried moving but then he remembered and he dared not move. Blood and dust clung to his clothes. He lay there for several minutes. He eyes stung from having cried earlier and his blood loss had evidently only gotten worse for he felt the wetness of the blood on his but also the numbness. He was dying. Oh the thirst and the dust!

Johan had heard boots running and out of sheer reflex his body willed him to turn all the way over onto his back so he could see who it was. When he did, oh, how, how it had felt like a knife severed his spine and remained imbedded in him. Out of reflex he screamed in pain, but all that came out was some of what precious little blood he had left. He had not even been able to tell if the person rushing towards him was a German soldier or a Pole. There was dust on his glasses and he could not see "Johan" he heard. "Untersturmfuhrer Von Gentz!" He looked up, it was Friedrich, crouching next to him. "What is it?"

"Morphine!" Johan had wept, his weakness only allowing him to whisper "dear God I must have morphine!" The Poles had heard them, obviously because bullets began firing and through the noise Johan could hear Slavic voices. Friedrich had temporarily gone out of his sight and Johan had fainted as he heard an MP40 firing, the metal casings hitting the hard surface.

"Untersturmfuhrer Franken" the Major said "You were wounded in the Kessel outside of Berlin, it is a good thing that we found you before someone else did. You all wanted to be vampires because you did not want to die having died for no reason, having died simply because you were not strong enough, your flesh and blood having been mercilessly crushed by a mightier enemy. You did not want to die destroyed by those you had always so despised, slowly, painfully, in a final humiliation. You wanted it to be different. As you pointed out Untersturmfuhrer Franken the backgrounds are often incredibly similar and that is why I am sure of success."

The briefing over Johan von Gentz had uneasily filed out while the other officers chatted among themselves. The memory of August 15th 1944 was never easy for him, the pain, how he had cried, how he had screamed in pain how his mind had sobbed in self pity 'not like this, not like this, some other way.'

He awoke when he felt an uncleansed needle stabbing itself into his arm and then wonderful relief flowing into his body. He still was incredibly thirsty and he wanted water more than anything else. Even more powerful than that urge, was what he was feeling at that moment. He looked and saw Friedrich, dustier than when he had first seen him. His friend's face was a mask of panic and concern. Faintly Johan von Gentz heard his name being called by Friedrich. He could not hear what Friedrich was saying but he had spoken, he was sure of it "I just wasn't strong enough, I wasn't decisive enough, they betrayed me, they shot me, they shot me as if I was nothing. They shot me because I was weak and because no one would care. Oh God not like this, please give me another chance, not here, not like this!"

He leaned against the comfortless metal wall for support. As he remembered. He remembered the morphine allowing him to forget, to sleep. He remembered awakening in the hospital, the Hospital with no windows. He remembered the staff, all looking at him as meat instead of as a patient and he remembered the Dok. Yes he remembered the Dok! He remembered those opaque glasses, he remembered Friedrich's smirk. He remembered lying upright his Feldgrau uniform gone replaced by an open back hospital gown. He tried to determine if he was naked beside that and then he remembered, he could not feel anything below his waist, he did not know if he had underwear on. Before he could think of anything else he might have lost, before he could cry, he heard the Dok's voice. "Are you a virgin Untersturmfuhrer?"

It was spoken clinically. Johan had focused on him. Immediately he was struck with annoyance and bewilderment at his medical gown which left his athletic torso exposed. 'That is improper!' Johan wanted to say. He noted that Friedrich was wearing a clean Feldgrau SS uniform. Ever since he had become a vampire he had worn a Totenkopf on his peaked cap, it and his glasses shone in the light. He then understood that the Dok had asked him a question and why was Friedrich smirking?

"Are you a virgin Untersturmfuhrer?" the Dok repeated in the same tone of voice, as if he had not already asked that question.

The question made him think of the loss of use of something that his wound had given him and he began to cry "I will always remain one, obviously Doktor." He turned his head from both of them and began to sob pathetically, he was eunuch and it was humiliating! How was he even meant to relieve himself?

"That needn't be so" said Friedrich smugly.

Johan looked up at the more senior officer, in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"How would you like to have the Obersturmfuhrer's power?"

At first Johan did not believe he had heard the question, but then he realized that Friedrich's smirk was a knowing one, one that said he too was in on the secret. He was in on the secret of what Friedrich was after all. He had been there when Friedrich had been unveiled, when he had bested Obersturmfuhrer Blitz. He had had not been there at Anzio or in Normandy, but he had seen the accuracy and speed Friedrich had and he could still walk in daylight, if that was what it meant to be a Vampire, then…but. "Will it give me back my legs instead of making me an immortal cripple?" Johan asked in pathetic desperation.

"And Eunuch" the Dok finished for him. "Yes it will, a Vampire is restored to the physical appearance and state they were at their most useful and physically attractive, you will after all become a beast of prey."

Friedrich's smug grin deepened and he spoke, when he did the smile and voice he had seemed arrogant and strangely seductive, as if Johan were a woman. Was that the way Friedrich was? Was he a homosexual, or was it the voice and style that, among many things Johan too could have if he was a vampire? "Come Johan. Being a vampire is beyond anything you could be as a human. You will have power, you won't be destroyed because you were too weak, no enemy can discount you as insignificant you will be feared and practically unstoppable." Johan was sorely tempted and yet not sure if he was willing to stop being human and change into something that might involve him losing his humanity. Was Friedrich even human now that he was a vampire? Friedrich's eyes blazed red and he said with malicious delight "When you have the power to eliminate whole companies of the enemy, when bullets cannot stop you, when your body heals quickly, when the enemy fears you and begs you for mercy that is what it means to be a vampire! The only time we know such power is when the enemy is unarmed, but imagine it against the English, the Soviets and yes your own side, the men who shot you, the men who left you to die, who are now out there, unknown in their crime except to you. Men who are bragging how they killed a Feldgendarme, how they are above rules and how they will never be punished! Think of what you could do, what you could experience! We all love killing, we all love war, we have enjoyed every exquisite moment of it! Now think of what you could have if you had the capacity to experience it at still a higher level of being!"

Suddenly Johan's resistance weakened further. Yes! Yes! He wanted that power! He wanted it badly. His childhood had been one of being weak, defenseless against the stronger kids or those in authority! Whenever he had tried to lead during Officer training he had been dismissed usually as a leader "Not tall enough! Not strong enough!" his detractors had scoffed. No one had listened to him even when he was in charge! They would not obey his orders! Often he found himself in a position where they would usurp authority from him and they knew he could do nothing about it for to admit his failure would see him cast back to being a regular soldier.

That is why he joined the Feldgendarmerie! To gleefully fire into those same cowards who usurped control from him but then ran, for those who thought they did not have to obey orders, for those who only understood force and might. He loved it. He loved massacring civilians, many of them taller than he was, he loved the men begging him for mercy, the wives and mothers begging for the lives of their men. He loved smashing the butt of his weapon into the face of the child who was the school yard bully. The whimper and cries from his parents becoming more desperate, anguished and hopeless as he crushed that person's body with his fury, his combat boots often crushing their skulls with brains and blood being oddly, deliciously squishy! He loved it when deserters would arrogantly attempt to brush past him and then immediately whimper and become obedient when his schmeisser had ripped apart the biggest and strongest among them!

He loved it at Stalingrad when the hard men, desperate from escape would shove forward desperately! He and his men had fired indiscriminately into them. There were so many more of them than Feldgendarmes, yet they had always cowered away! He loved it when he had given them hope, false hope, kill each other for a place on that plane! You can do it! You can make it, go on, kill each other! Oh how the best of friends, comrades through the worst battle of the war had, without a second's hesitation torn themselves apart! He loved it that those left standing were those who would rather die than kill their comrades, the ones who, well damnit, deserved to live! The ones who were decent, who would cry unashamedly at an emotional moment! They were the ones, not the strongest or the most bullying who deserved to be on those planes. Yes he had made sure that not the strongest, but the most worthy were on that plane. The people who would show solidarity unto the end, who would sacrifice everything to prolong the lives of everyone, not just themselves! The Army was stronger because those who believed authority came through physical strength, and that only the fittest should survive, were dead, having slaughtered each other. Oh how he had barely controlled his ecstasy!

He loved in Yugoslavia, when in a surprise night time attack they had burned a Croatian village to the ground, murdering all the inhabitants and making it look like Tito's Partisans in order to make the Croatians fight harder!

He loved it when he had been selected for the Feldjagerkorps, where he and Regular Army comrades would shoot down the people they deemed to be "defeatists." There were those who had sounded tough, who had liked the war, who had acted imperious to conquered peoples and who had happily, remorselessly committed atrocities when the war was going well. Now that everything was falling apart, they suddenly pretended as if they were conscientious and began trying to cover themselves up, or even desert. Whatever their rank, whatever their branch of service, they were made example of!

He had power when he did that! Now those same people he had despised had taken it all away from him. They had left him like this!

"Just think of it!" Friedrich said excitedly his hands excitedly gripping the foot of Johan's bed "waging war for ever, shooting defeatists, deserters, partisans and all the others for eternity! You can have it and you can take your revenge!"

Johan von Gentz's anger overwhelmed him and he growled and nodded at the Dok.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see that it was Friedrich. He stood up to his full height, slightly taller than the other officer "What do you need Herr Obersturmfuhrer?"

"You can relax Johan, we are not in front of the men and I this is not related to any of our normal duties." For someone telling another to relax, Friedrich was standing awfully still and had the hints of an awkward question in the way his chin and lips were so tight.


	13. Chapter 13

_Yes, in case anyone is wondering, much of what follows is my tribute to the movie _**The Debt**_**.**_

Johan was surprised and uncomfortable with the question. It was not an entirely unpleasant memory but it was one he preferred not to talk about, just like being shot in Warsaw.

He still was recovering from the surprise at having Friedrich, proper, quiet, serious, murderous Friedrich ask about Buenos Aires, 1968. Friedrich had been there, sort of. He had not asked about it before, even if at the time he seemed to be able to sense what had happened.

Johan had had surgery the very day he had growled at the Doctor and once again he had found himself bleeding, ghouls' blood being furiously put into him, his own blood changing it into something better. When he had emerged Johan had been able to stand up from the operating table.

"How is it Untersturmfuhrer?" the Dok had asked.

Johan felt the same, he still was Johan von Gentz, he had not lost that, but he had gained something: physical power. He could feel it! It was so different, in his modest frame was packed so much power, and he could not wait to try it out, to have his revenge on those men! To wreak terror on everybody and for them to be powerless before him yet again, only this time, they would not be able to hurt him! He had closed his fists and uncurled them, watching the incredibly dense bones move underneath his skin, which had taken a greyer pallor. He could feel all his teeth, sharp like canine teeth and ever so slightly longer. He gently licked his teeth with his tongue, the saliva tasting the same but the teasing sharpness of his vicious teeth were entirely new, they were the teeth of a carnivore. "Herr Doktor, I would like to get dressed" he said with a new found confidence, arrogance even.

"Of course Untersturmfuhrer, but as the second of the vampires I have created we have to keep you here for a few days to make sure you recover and what you can and cannot do, it is an incredible strain what your body has just been through and it has changed in so many ways, please be patient."

Johan had felt like he could right then and there to kill the men who had left him for dead, go so far as to disobey orders, but there was logic and correctness in what the Doktor said. He also had the example of Friedrich to go by, a man like him who had been changed but had remained obedient to those with less physical power, who remained loyal. Yes, he smiled calmly and realized that for the surgery to truly have been what he wanted, he needed to make sure he was physically different but that everything else was still him. "Jawohl Herr Doktor, I shall do what you ask of me."

He had been kept in isolation, given blood packs. He was surprised that he had, without hesitation, drunk blood and it was never enough, he always wanted more. Blood tasted more than just as blood; it was the purest mineral water after a dire thirst, the best beer of all kinds, smooth wine. It was an incalculable pleasure to drink and he thought of tearing off the throats of his enemies and gorging himself on their flesh and especially their blood. He noticed that the personnel, though humans did not excite his hunger. They had been scared of him though, the Feldgendarme, whose eyes were obscured by the light on his glasses, his sly, predatorial smile. He felt no urge to feed on them and he was relieved, they were on his side and he did not want to kill comrades.

They had tried to feed him human food, it tasted as it had before but he found that he could not eat very much of it, very little. He just about managed soup with some light chunks of meat, or fresh bread, otherwise is body would reject it. He found that when he was exposed to sunlight, it was like being in the sun while sunburnt, he could withstand it but it hurt him. He did not like it, and he had never much cared for the sun even when he was human.

Unlike Friedrich he had far more easily embraced being a vampire, to him it was a second chance at a better life. For Friedrich, it was an admission of powerlessness.

Friedrich Craebel, Rip van Winkle, Johan von Gentz, and Zorin Blitz took men on trips in South America. There was too great a risk in Europe they could run into old comrades or old enemies, be recognized and create problems. There were rules of discipline of course, no feeding, no revealing of vampirism, otherwise have fun. The men always obeyed the rules, there had never been a problem. Well that was lying, there had been. There were some women who were attracted to the pale skinned foreigners with the cruel, insane faces. Sometimes they would want to get intimate and well, the men never, never went with prostitutes. That being said in intimate moments either the women would notice or the men would reveal their teeth to impress and/or tease their partners. There had never been problems of biting, even though sometimes the men on these trips would admit they were tempted. In all cases the officers would discipline them by confining them to the Hotel until the return to the base.

The worst breach of discipline had been, ironically enough, committed by Johan himself even though he was the leader of the Feldgendarme platoon. It was not as if there had been worse problems though.

Johan was, like every member of the Battalion, a war criminal and, although he would sometimes feel horror, guilt, self-loathing at incredibly intense levels, he never felt it as frequently as Friedrich. He had not, as the others had who had been at Babi Yar, ever been a drunkard or tried to drink so much to kill himself. Whereas Friedrich had sometimes, even after becoming a vampire, broken down and begun sobbing, begging loudly for forgiveness, for his essential goodness.

With Johan it was more subtle. He would go on, perfectly normally, and suddenly, something would trigger a memory of what he had done. Sometimes he would spasm strangely in place and that would be it. Other times the spasm was accompanied by strange twitching, all over his body that was impossible for him to control. Other times, without realizing it he would shake his head ever so slightly and with such intensity that it would appear to people watching him that he was having a seizure. At other times he would cringe and make choking noises as he tried to contain the emotions that he did not want to spill over, because he was never sure what he would do.

He could never figure out why he felt remorse after the fact, but not before it, and certainly not while doing it.

He remembered leading his men, along with the survivors from the last fight over the last planes to leave, out of the Kessel at Stalingrad. They had had to crawl through snow, hoping no one would notice their feldgrau face wrappings which were a giveaway. He remembered everyone lying inert in the snow, freezing as Russian patrols would pass by. In 1945, even though it was against orders, but nobody cared by that point, everything had fallen apart, he had ordered the execution of the roving squads of Nazis hanging 'deserters.' Some of these people were eligible to serve, certainly more so than the old men they were shooting for being 'deserters' filth such as them did not deserve to survive. At Stalingrad he had thought that not so long ago he had been hunting partisans in Yugoslavia and that they had been flown in because the Sixth Army Feldgendarmes were overwhelmed and in any case too sympathetic to men they knew. He remembered making it with only 45 out of the 80 who had set out. He also remembered that when one of his Feldgendarmes would be killed or fall from the cold, he would take the gorget and MP40 from the coat of one of the dead and give the objects to one of the unarmed men in the group. "Wilkommen zum der Feldgendarmerie" he would say with an insane smile and encouraging clap on the shoulder.

Survivors from the Kessel, not so long after thrown into the battle at Kharkov to keep order among retreating SS troops and Regular Army, and von Gentz had freely sent men to punishment battalions. When the retreat had been ordered he had immediately done a volte face, with anyone who suggested that they obey the Fuhrer's orders and fight on. Under the schmeissers of the Feldgendarmes the group responsible would be assembled. The ringleaders were then singled out. They would be stripped, then handcuffed and marched out in the cold to freeze by their fellows. He had enjoyed as they had resisted, squirmed and kicked to be let free and how their 'friends' had desperately kept them in line, knowing that the Feldgendarmes would gun them all down if they failed to obey. Never once among all these SS 'hard men' did one man say he would rather go down with his friends than do something like that. If they had he may have let them live. Once they had frozen to death, the punishment was completed by having the disobedient SS troopers dig shallow trenches and lay the corpses down vertically in them. "The message being" von Gentz had declared, cackling "that they shall hold this position forevermore."

It had not taken long before the Major had seconded von Gentz and his expanded Feldgendarme platoon for duty in Warsaw. When the Ghetto Uprising occurred Von Gentz had been with Friedrich, the Major, the Doktor and Unterscharfuhrer Weiss. The rest of his men had been on the other side of the Ghetto wall.

He had been thinking about this when he had left the Buenos Aires Hotel on January 5th 1968. It was an uncommonly cool and overcast day, almost late fall like in its chill, not usual when summer happens during the winter months in the Southern Hemisphere. He had been distracted, too distracted, lost in thought, twitching and having pangs of guilt, over, everything. Even though he was a vampire, it did not prevent his spatial awareness from being impaired when he was not focused. He felt, all of a sudden a sharp blow to his stomach which his body easily absorbed, but in his shock, transitioning from the 1940s to the present day. He had found himself whisked by strong human arms into a car where, seamlessly, a cloth with some sort of sleeping agent put on it had been jammed in his face and simultaneously a needle with something similar in his neck. As a vampire neither had had any effect on him.

As a vampire, and not as a human his reaction was not one of desperation but of anger.

"Anger?" asked Friedrich back in the present day, they were sat in what was the largely superfluous cafeteria on the base. Both were gently sipping some soup, in this case a soupe de poissons where instead of toasted slices of baguette you added tiny chunks of pig flesh. Pig's blood was also in the two wine glasses they were drinking from. Other men were eating something similar, although only in the case of the virgins was there anything other than blood and flesh to the soup.

"Yes anger Friedrich" said von Gentz almost wearily. It was irritating how the senior officer and the most 'ancient' of the battalion's vampires could still act as though he was removed from what he was, a blood sucking demon. "We have enormous powers as vampires and my first reaction was not panic because I knew I could overpower these people, whoever they were, physically, it was the anger one gets in physical combat and from being attacked out no of nowhere, you would have felt the same way."

Friedrich's face hardened and he looked directly into von Gentz's eyes, which was unnerving as it was unusual for shy Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel to look anybody directly in the eyes. It was still more unnerving, and frightening even when Friedrich's eyes blazed red, even if he otherwise kept largely still. "How weak and stupid do you think I am Johan, after all this time?"

Being asked this question by such an old comrade and by a superior was frightening, even if Johan technically had the power to discipline Friedrich. "Well…I…I don't understand the question" he said nervously, the spoon in his hand went slack.

"You obviously think that I am thinking about this like a human, you'd be right about that." Friedrich's voice became edgier, as if it was carving into Johan "Out of the blue, you as a vampire are being targeted by humans, and you're first reaction is not to assume they are vampire hunters? You should have been very afraid before you knew more!"

The accusatory tone and the analysis both took Johan back enormously. His superior was correct, what was it to have said at that moment that it was Mossad and not Iscariot, or worse Hellsing itself? He was hardly in a rough part of town, so it could not have been a simple kidnapping for ransom. He was also Johan von Gentz and Simon Wiesenthal, among others were looking for him. He should have had reason to panic, especially since here he was in South America after all this time, still looking young with no family, no children and no possible cover life.

Yes he should have panicked, but he did not. Still shocked he did a backhanded slap to the man shoving the needle in his neck, knocking him backward, but the needle remained, the man with the cloth reacted by punching Johan in the face, which had no affect on him, except to make him angrier and skew his glasses slightly. In the confined space his fist could only go six inches to the other man's nose, but it was enough to break it. The second man, came up from behind him with a garrot wire to strangle him. Johan had smirked, and had grabbed both hands when he felt a second needle stab into him from the driver's window. He looked to see a woman, who he did not have a good look at, as he angrily jammed his body backwards by pushing against the opposite door, sending the man trying to strangle him and himself pitching into the street. He was appalled that he felt dizzier, like he wanted to sleep. From his current position the man, from his grunts, was still trying to strangle Johan, believing that such a thing as a lack of air could kill him. Johan had grabbed both his hands, wrenching them forward with ease so that the garrot was off of him and then using his vampiric strength he stood up and threw the other man, clean over the car, where he rolled into the street into passing traffic. He stood up, disoriented, when he heard the car door open, turning to see the woman who had stabbed the second needle into him. He growled and his hands reached out, his speed allowed him to grab her throat before she could react. He was about to squeeze and snap her neck using his strength when he saw the vicious expression on what he had just registered was a gorgeous face and felt a red hot stabbing pain come into his left shoulder.

He had screamed loudly in pain, throwing back his head, screaming to the heavens, unable to do anything because of the pain. It was pain only akin to what it had been like when he had been shot by those Dirlewanger men, lying in the dust and his own blood. He then found himself tackled to the ground again from behind. He felt the man stabbing a third needle into him, the sleeping liquids making him weak and he was asleep before he could resist.

"One thing that I am unsure of is why Iscariot supplied Mossad, of all people with a silver dagger and a sleeping agent that puts vampires to sleep." Friedrich remarked. The harsh blaze in his eyes had faded, as had the edge in his voice, to be replaced by his normal, benign demeanor.

"Yes" said Johan thoughtfully. Silver was not as deadly to vampires as supposed, nor was it even as harmful to them as a normal blade would be to a human and wounds inflicted by silver on a vampire would heal much quicker than normally any wound would for a human. However the healing was slower for a vampire, and being stabbed by silver was far more painful for a vampire than being stabbed was for a human. Why would Iscariot want him alive though? Did they intend to betray Mossad? He only learned some details later not all of them.

His little struggle, in fact his lack of panic and even being stabbed probably saved him from death and by extension the Battalion from premature exposure. He had woken up tied up and gagged in some apartment leaning against a wall. He felt uncomfortable, he at first had difficulty remembering what had happened and who these people were. He moved somewhat and whimpered angrily in pain as the stab wound in his shoulder reminded him what had happened. He looked and saw the red, filthy stain on his white shirt, his suspenders holding up his trousers rubbed against the wound, creating sometimes a slight tingling pain. He remembered the red, it was ever so slightly darker than the color of human blood.

Johan now looked more like Friedrich as he thought of those moments in waking up. His face was sad and he felt as though the slightest movement would be a great physical burden and he was not exactly sure what to think of what he was remembering. "I was very angry when I realized I had been stabbed by a woman, but I contained myself for some reason, I did not break free and simply kill them. No I wanted to know who these people were and why they were doing this to me."

He did not have to listen long as he sat there to hear the annoying sound of spoken Hebrew. _Mossad_. He was irritated, not because he had ever regarded Jews as inferior, or even Jews as a distinct ethnic group, but because they obviously were here to get him and show that Israel could not be pushed around that the Jewish people could stand up for themselves. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! He had heard it all before it annoyed him. He had been there for the Ghetto Uprising. That resistance was a lot feebler and more easily crushed than most he had encountered in his Military career, but enough had died for him to respect the ability of anybody of the Jewish faith to defend themselves. It was merely a demonstration of their insecurity and he was angry that _he_ of all people had to be a part of it. Still he wanted to hear them say to his face, what they intended to do to him.

"I had also wondered what you were doing Friedrich as I could not tell the time from where I was, nor if it was day or night." He said, he took a drink of pig's blood, pleasant enough, but it would never be able to compare to the delight of human blood.

"We were not worried until the next day" Friedrich reminded him. His fingers in one glove twiddled out as a signal for Johan to go on.

He had gotten a good view of what seemed to be the man with the chloral hydrate cloth, a man with a broken nose. He was a big man, rippling with muscles, but with what could only be described as by Johan, grossly unfairly, as a Jewish face. It was ludicrous to say there was such a thing as a 'Jewish' face. Unterscharfuhrer Weiss was proof of that. But this man, despite his status as a fine physical specimen, and maybe even because of it, annoyed Johan immensely. That face was one which suggested inbreeding, it was repulsive, inherently wrong. He could also tell from the general thuggish and prideful demeanor of the man that he was not inclined to marry someone outside of the tribe and so his children would still be more sickly. Looking at people like that made Johan, ever so temporarily, sympathetic to the revulsion that the Nazis had displayed for the appearance of Jews.

The second man, the one who had tackled him and dragged him into the car in the first place had curly hair, which some construed as being Jewish, which was simply ridiculous. However this man was a mix of Eastern European and Southern European blood, it made him more aesthetically pleasing, because of his diversity, despite his more modest frame than the other man, unlike the other one he radiated fundamental health. He was not was you would call handsome, though, he had a kind face that wore on it a deadly expression when he looked at Johan. Johan could definitely imagine breaking free and devouring the both of them, preferably with the woman forced to watch. How delicious, in every possible sense, that would be!

"Esther" the big man had called out "come here" this was in German so Johan could understand it. He had glared with equal if not greater tenacity at the other two men, despite the indescribably hostile glares they were giving him. If they thought he was a Nazi, he would be a Nazi for them, because, he could tell, in their eyes he would never be anything else, could never be anything else.

He glared at all of them, even going so far as to growl with his upper and lower lips coming up ever so slightly but not exposing his teeth and his growl was human, not the uncanny one he had been capable of making ever since he was a vampire. He then remembered that it was futile as he was gagged with the cloth covering his mouth. He was especially like that since he remembered only that the woman who had stabbed him, who had caused him immense pain was very attractive, but he could not put any features to that face at the moment. He saved his worst looks for when he saw her walk in.

He saw her again and now he remembered her, raven black hair, framing a roundish face with deep blue eyes and a face that many movie stars would wish they had. She glared at him with complete contempt and he returned the look. "Diese Zwei sprechen keine Deutsch, aber ich spreche Deutsch" she said. She then said completely unsympathetically "Verstehen sie?" Johan nodded curtly and shot her the most withering glance he could, the eyes that promised and knew untold suffering and was unafraid.

"Johan Albrecht von Gentz, you have caused us a lot of trouble" she said trying but failing to return his stare with equal tenacity. "We should kill you right now but then we would fail so we will keep you alive while we arrange to get you out of the country and to Israel where you will stand trial for what you did in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising." She was now struggling to continue to look at him, and underneath his gag, Johan smirked, she was scared of him.

Ever since the Nazis and their promotion of the ideal man, girls had only gotten worse about wanting taller, stronger, blond haired men, in contrast to the brown hair and short, average frame of Johan. He liked it when people, women especially were scared of him. What always gave him a special thrill was that he realized they did not fear his sexual power, but what he might otherwise do to them, such as shoot them while laughing with the rhythm of his MP-40 or stab them over and over again! Sexual violence was so cheap, stupid and unnecessary, whereas simple raw violence was far more shocking and far less depraved than some the crimes he had seen committed. Any genital mutilation that he witnessed had resulted in mercy killing and often leaving the perpetrator defense and alone, with women. All of these wonderful thoughts were going through his head as she spoke.

Johan recalled that he did not remember too much about the rest of what she said, simply that they would all take turns watching him and feeding him. He had been amused that she, tough Mossad agent trained never to be a victim, was scared by the very monster she was supposed to fearlessly face down, it made him feel powerful. He also began to realize as she ever so slightly squirmed under his gaze that she was, in a strange way drawn to him yet she found him unbelievably repulsive at the same time. She did not like that Johan's eyes were wondering over her body, undressing her and then smirking at her discomfort, while still having that fierce look in her eyes. He remembered her finishing with "It's my turn first."

"Amazingly" said Friedrich in the present "because of the Major, crushing the Ghetto Uprising is one of my fondest memories." He did not say this with the normal melancholy that Friedrich had when referring to the war but with happiness.

Johan snapped out of his gentle story telling, bucking up with pride and with recognition of the same feelings for something in another. "I know!" he declared happily "even she was fascinated by it!"


	14. Chapter 14

Johan remembered sullenly eating when the men came to him for the first two shifts. He would eat, while giving them his pitiless, soulless glare, which they tried to but could not return. Instead they would force him to eat even when his body was trying to stop him and they would laugh at him as his body would wretch up the soup they gave him. They delighted in his pain, the dried soup that soon smelt like rotting vegetables on his clothes, that made him cry with rage when he could not get to sleep because of the smell and the thought that he could not bathe or change his clothes. This went on for only a day, but the agony of it seemed longer.

Johan did not remember seeing her, Esther, for much. He could hear her, he could see her look at him sometimes as she passed, but mostly, she seemed to be around when he was asleep.

"Why didn't you try and break free earlier when you could have? Why didn't you just kill them all?" asked Friedrich, his eyes narrowing. Johan could tell that Friedrich knew the answer and did not approve of his reasons for staying there. Johan could also sense a hint of jealously in Friedrich's question.

Johan smiled sheepishly, "I wanted to talk to her, there are not many women around here. You and I can get along just fine without them, you better than me obviously, but I still have urges…" he trailed off as his grey skin become slightly more like normal flesh as blood rose to his face in embarrassment, like a child admitting a not very serious offense. "Well also, I, um, wanted to mess with her head, I saw she feared me and was disgusted by me, but I also wanted her. I wanted her to ask me questions and to draw out to the ultimate conclusion any feelings she might have, whatever they may be, for what I am, for what we all are." He now swayed his head from side to side uneasily. Ironically enough he could only think of a Yiddish word to describe what he looked like, a nebbish. He certainly felt like one, acceding to the questioning under the unusual hard gaze of Friedrich Wilhelm Craebel. "She also stabbed me, I felt like raping her in return, that was my initial reasoning, to be honest I was being too selfish."

"You were" said Friedrich harshly. Then suddenly his tone softened but his face did not "Please do go on." Johan was surprised that Friedrich did not show any disgust for his casual admission of wanting to rape a woman. He would ask Friedrich about that later.

On the second day Johan felt himself being kicked awake, but something was different about this kick, unlike the ones he had gotten so far, ones which took satisfaction in hurting him as well as waking him up, this one was still designed to hurt him, but there was a reluctance in it. When the kick came again it was gentler than first, in contrast to the ones he had gotten. Johan grunted and looked up to see her. She looked pitilessly at him and said "They've gone out to make arrangements, I'm on an extended shift, you should bathe you smell like shit."

She had bathed him, without removing his clothes or untying him, however she had cleaned off his glasses for him, and he was grateful for it but she had not put them back on his face while she bathed him. As a vampire he could see without them, but he still liked them, he had had them when he needed them and he could not imagine himself without them. She had ungagged him and this had enabled him to talk to her for the first time while she was shampooing his soiled shirt. "Your name is Esther" he snorted "you Jews always did lack imagination." The hands that had formerly had a female gentleness to them, suddenly became rougher and more sullen. Johan chuckled "Such care before that" he mocked teasingly. "Such care and yet you stabbed me before, what's the matter I thought all you Jews loved hurting Nazis, having guilt are we?"

"Shut up!" she said curtly as she turned on the hand nozzle spray his shirt with water. Johan smiled at the pleasantly warm water, washing the grime off of his clothing and his body, while mourning that fact that his trousers would be ruined.

Johan swallowed some of the water that trickled into his mouth. "Do you even know what it is I supposedly did or are you just doing this because you Jews think you can purge the memory of the Final Solution by killing people and committing ethnic cleansing yourselves?" He looked up at her, he gave her _that _smile and was even more amused seeing the anger in her face, but she restrained herself from hitting him. "You know, you don't need to prove anything. I was there for the Uprising as you know. Still I've read a lot of Jewish propaganda about those days and it was not that difficult for us to crush the Uprising. The Jewish propaganda is all lies, you weren't that fearsome, we killed you fairly easily, if there was one thing all Jews were good at, it was dying, and dying quietly or begging us for mercy."

He heard an angry whimper from her as she pounded her fists on the tub rim, barely restraining herself from hitting him. "Are you suggesting the Stroop report is correct?" she spat in a trembling voice.

He turned to look at her, smiling without showing any teeth, "Of course not and Jurgen Stroop was a fool, he did not mastermind the crushing of the Uprising, others did, I was one of them!" He enjoyed torturing this beautiful woman. She angrily reached for the hand nozzle and now hosed down his hair for half a minute, before chucking it in the bath where it hit him and water splashed on him. She then reached for the shampoo bottle, "Do you want to know the truth, about those days?" he asked without looking at her.

"What?" she demanded angrily.

"Do you want to know about what really happened?"

He felt the shampoo poured on his head and then he now frantic, angry, trembling figures massaging his scalp. "Go on" she said.

"I did not tell her of course about what we were doing, I said we just happened to be on duty in the Ghetto making sure that the Ukrainians were within the lax standards of discipline we set there. As I recall, we executed at least five men for stealing from operations of any significance to the Reich there."

"Actually, I remember executing ten, in front of crowds of Jews, you came up with that idea so that they would have a jeering, furious crowd, baying for their deaths in their final moments to frighten the others" said Friedrich with surprising happiness in his voice.

Johan felt his left arm twitch and spasm all of a sudden and his head shook without him willing either, for some reason that was something he knew had happened but had made an active endeavor to forget and did not want Friedrich reminding him of it. "Yes I told her that actually."

He then had related to her what it had felt like when the Uprising had taken place and how they had calmly listened to the screams of the Ukrainians being butchered in a fate they all richly deserved. He also remembered the Major sitting behind his desk, arms folded across his expansive stomach. "Obersturmfuhrer Craebel, Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz, this a big problem. We are isolated from our main force, surrounded by 50,000 people who will of course give us no quarter, and considering what we have done we should of course expect none. What I fear less is what may happen to us and more that those idiots on the other side of the wall will get a bunch of good men slaughtered all because they will not be able to see what it is we are facing here: a starving, ragged, ill-equipped bunch of Jews who do not care how many of them die so long as they take one of us with them." The Major's warm honey eyes had swirled with insanity and he had laughed. "Truly it is glorious that we do all this and then are shocked when people fight back. Those who are blinded by idiotic theories cannot see what they are doing and how it will harden everyone towards us. Although it makes this war more fun with each passing day, where everywhere is the front and everyone is the enemy, it is annoying that the Nazis cannot recognize just how their policies would always lead to their destruction. Nevertheless as members of the Third Reich's mighty Schutzstaffel, we must do something about this." He had smiled insanely and both Johan and Friedrich had looked at each other unsure what to expect next.

"Why would he talk like that to you?" Esther had asked, her hands having becoming gentler, though not caressing him. "Why would he even talk like that, you were all SS men!"

"That did not stop us from hating Nazism and the regime" Johan replied "but please you wanted to know allow me to continue with the Story."

"What do we have to do sir?" swallowed Friedrich. Johan could see his eyes were truly frightened of what they may just have to do.

"Well this will be fun, I promise you." He stood up and undid his pistol holster from his belt and put it on the desk. "You two, although far too healthy looking to be among the starving wretches out there are the best we have to sneak out of this, and in order to have some cover, you will be escorting both me and Unterscharfuhrer Weiss. We will get out of the Ghetto, but we have to be careful, especially since those poorly trained, stupid traitors (he was referring to the Ukrainian and Baltic SS troopers) will no doubt trying and shoot you on sight. We could always try and get out through the sewers, but this poses a problem as we could meet an even nastier end down there and not because of the rats."

"Are we going now sir?" asked Johan incredulously.

"Hardly" responded the Major, shaking his head ever so slightly "We need to spend at least a few days reconnoitering our route and you two will eventually need to go out as some of those pathetic people up there and be seen. Fortunately for you two we have packed not only Poles into this Ghetto, but every sort from across Europe here, where they have all died or been expected to die. Two Germans will not be something anyone will remark upon."

"That is one of the myths I cannot stand!" Johan had growled as she had washed his hair out. "That somehow it was all coordinated on your side, everyone could speak to each other and move with common purpose." He snorted with contempt. "Impossible you lacked a common language, your pretending that you all moved as one, that the resistance was one is simply yet another manifestation of how we succeeded!" he said triumphantly.

Suddenly he felt his neck bared, as if she were the vampire here and the knife that had cut into him was put to his throat. Her enraged face was in his, he was amused rather than frightened. If he needed to save himself he could in a split second. He was happy he was having an effect on her. Her vicious, pained face was doubly amusing. His cruel, insane smile appeared again, "You want to kill me, yet you cannot bring yourself to, why?" he asked in a gentle, soothing voice.

"Don't push me" she sobbed and a tear trickled down her face as she removed the knife.

Johan chuckled gently. "Why get upset, it is only the truth, why are you afraid of it? If you all moved as one and could all understand each other, all Jews were the same and the nonsense conspiracies the Nazis conjured could be real. If on the other hand you are a faith group and not a nationality, then our slaughter of you had no basis in anything as you were all of different nations, unless of course" he said looking into her, madness in his eyes "that you really were up to something, that you really were what we said you were."

She went over to the sink to grab a toothbrush and toothpaste. "Go on" she said.

"We did just that, we had some civilian clothes on the base, but we had to grow our hair out some more first, otherwise we would be giveaways as German officers. We ended up walking around, appearing to be intense and on patrol and we felt that way with our stars of David and Walther pistols. We were terrified someone may recognize us and demand to know who we were and without any sort of identification we would be in an enormous amount of trouble. I also remember wearing skull caps."

"Yarmulkes" Esther said irritably from the sink. What did you talk about on those patrols?" she asked.

Neither of them had had any great exposure to people of the Jewish faith, so they ended sounding like stereotypes.

"Why did you do that Isaac why?" Friedrich had asked "If you hadn't maybe we would not be here! Why did you have to use all that bad stuff when selling meat and gefilte fish to customers? It got us a bad reputation!"

"Well none of it was bad rabbi" replied Johan "it was all clean" I mean, he said pointing his arms as if gesturing to something, then shrugging "I…I washed the meat it was all clean."

"But much of your ground meat was from dogs, cats, and horse flesh and you talked about how you were a savvy businessman, idiot!"

"Why are you going so hard on me, I made money for the Synagogue didn't I?"

"Yes but the customers hated it when they found out and reported us to the SA you schlemiel! You talked about how you were a savvy businessman but you were and are just a little pisher who thinks he's a big shmuck. If you hadn't been a plosher about your ingredients we might not have gotten in trouble."

"How can you say that rabbi after all the Goyem have done to us? I'm starting to think you might be a goyishkopf."

"I'm not the one who sold bad meat to non-Jewish customers, stuff you said was schlock! How do you feel about selling that to customers?" Friedrich had demanded hotly.

"As a hypothetical?" Johan had asked coyly.

"No you said you were selling a bunch treyfe to a bunch of schnooks" Friedrich said accusatorily "how do you feel about that?"

"Again, as a hypothetical rabbi?" and on and on it went.

The reconnoitering of the sewers was done by other men in the detachment, and they always went out naked because they did not have spare uniforms. The two exceptions had been Unterscharfuhrer Weiss and the Major, who needed dirty, stinking uniforms in order for the cover story to be convincing to any Jewish resistance fighters they encountered. Eventually they figured out a number of easy escape routes, which later came to be used against the Jewish resistance when the Uprising was crushed.

"For someone who claims not to have been exposed to Jewish culture a lot, you two sure knew a lot of Yiddish words and the right ones" said Esther amusedly, now sitting beside him again but listening to him rather than actually doing anything. He looked at her, she was listening intently, he went on.

After two weeks of this and much humiliation on the part of the garrison, they had determined the best way to escape, it would involve a combination of going on the streets and down in the sewers. Some of the men had managed to get as far as beyond the wall without anyone spotting them, albeit they reminded the Major that they would have to be careful. The Major had assembled the Garrison, everyone, except those who were necessary to the plan were in combat gear.

"Indeed we shall, for now it is time for us to set off. Tonight we go gentlemen!" he said in his usual happy voice.

"Who will take over the garrison Major?" asked Unterscharfuhrer Weiss.

"A good question, I think I will trust Oberscharfuhrer Stauff with that. Now we shall leave an hour after the sun sets, we may or may not be back, if we are not, hold out for help shall be here soon. Good luck everyone." His smile deepened as did the intensity of his eyes as he clicked his heels and his arm went up at a 45 degree angle "Sieg Heil!"

Everyone in the assembly hall did the same "Sieg Heil!"

They emerged from the base on the ground level through the Factory as they always did "Move it you fucking…uh what would Jews call us? Nazis? Fritz? Krauts?" Johan had asked uncertainly as he shoved his much taller, more muscular and Jewish subordinate in order to get in character.

"I do not know sir" said Weiss "um, just call us Germans…no that doesn't work because you are German, even in the cover" he said as they walked. In order to play the role of resistance fighters more carefully Friedrich and Johan were only armed with pistols, the Major and Weiss had nothing.

"Well come on man, you are Jewish" said Friedrich as they got nearer to the exit "you're the one who taught us all those Yiddish words and made us memorize them making us the only two Goyem in the SS who know how to kibbutz…sort of" he said uncertainly.

"Just call us Nazis" shrugged Weiss.

"Say something about how we don't look like supermen now" said the Major, he chuckled "albeit I have never looked like a superman."

"Uh, Sturmbannfuhrer" said Johan, "you had better start acting less like yourself and more like a Golden Pheasant."

"Hmmm, that could be difficult my dear Untersturmfuhrer."

Indeed the Major when they needed to act was not too good at acting like a Nazi Party coward.

"Wait" said Esther, still not bathing him or doing anything else except listen. "You knew this Weiss was a Jew and yet you hadn't reported him? And why was he even in the SS?"

"Of course we didn't report him" replied Johan giving her his signature smirk "he was a comrade in arms, a trusted subordinate, a good man, it didn't matter to us that he was Jewish, he was Adolf Weiss, that's all. You don't think I and my comrades enjoyed slaughtering you people because you were Jewish, do you?" his smirk deepened as he saw her get angry again.

They had followed the route exactly, stopping at the sewer hole that was shadowed, yet still in sight of one of the Ghetto gates, it was then that war intervened, it was fortunate that the Major came along, or else they would not have survived.

They were getting to the hole, looking around. They had fallen silent, they did not want anyone looking, but it was night. At night you cannot see the enemy, and sometimes you can use the impairment of vision to sneak and do things which can result in victory. Just because you cannot see the enemy does not mean that they cannot see you. In this case the enemy saw them when they dropped their cover. Unterscharfuhrer Weiss, being the strongest among them was the one who lifted the cover because he could handle it without wanting to drop it. However a SS trooper who is supposed to be held captive usually does not do this and with the 'guards' being so lax. Just then they heard the unmistakable click of a Kar-98 being prepared. "Halte!" came the command.

It was German, but in some sort of Slavic accent, whether Polish or otherwise was hard for any of them to tell later. Johan and Friedrich did keep their cool even as the Major and Weiss put their hands up. "What is the problem?" asked Friedrich affecting a yiddishy accent to his natural deep voice.

"What are you doing?" asked one of three figures emerging from the shadows. Even before they saw him, this was someone who clearly had authority and confidence. At the time Johan had been scared.

Fatally, both Johan and Friedrich remained frozen. They had been acting as caricatures of Jews and now that it was time to be a real one, to be a real person, they did not know how. They hesitated and when Friedrich stepped forward he stuttered at first "We…well you see we're going to shoot these two and put them in the…the sewer where they belong."

"Shut up! How stupid do you think we are?" said the man emerging from the shadows. He was truly terrifying. He was emaciated, like all Jews, but his eyes had more intense hatred in them than Johan ever saw in anybody else's. They were the eyes of a man who had nothing to lose, and whose only purpose in life is to kill. He was still taller than any of them there except Weiss.

"W…well" started Friedrich trying to maintain the act.

The man hit him with a force Johan had not thought possible from such a meager frame for Friedrich fell clutching his face, his glasses on the stone pavement. The two other men, shorter than the leader, but full of the same hatred leveled their rifles at all of them. The leader kept advancing to Johan. Johan was so scared he was frozen in place. He knew what they had done, he knew what he had done in Russia, he knew what Friedrich and the Major had done. As such he knew why he had reason to terrified. He felt the man's pistol in his forehead. Johan began weeping with fear as he knew what this man was capable of. He was sweating and it was a cold night. "What are you doing in here you fucking Nazi and how did you all get to be in here without us noticing?"

Suddenly, Johan felt relieved. He was about to die here and there was nothing he could do about it. He realized that after all he had done, after all he knew he was capable of, he should not live, none of them should. They should all die. His role in fighting partisans in Yugoslavia and behind the front in Russia had been active.

He had enjoyed it. The killing, the war, the atrocities, everything. He had enjoyed it when the peasants would shrug pretending not to know the answer to a question. He had enjoyed it when he had then killed them all himself and then asked another household the same question. Even if the village was innocent, the entire village, all killed by his questions it did not matter to him. He loved killing them, it was so funny. It was funny to see the dumb look in their eyes, their sobs, the raw terror in their in their final moments.

He loved making an example of villages which helped partisans, herding people into the largest communal structure, then setting it on fire, listening to the screams of the men, women and children inside. He would especially enjoy it when an unlucky survivor would emerge either on fire or burned, thinking they had lived through it only to be gunned down by the submachine guns of the Feldgendarmerie! It had been especially delicious when it had been a six year old Pole crying for its mother and her body had been ripped to pieces by thirty men firing all into her at once!

No good man could enjoy that and too often afterward he had found himself with the same twitches, spasms, inexplicable bouts of sobbing that would break through his revelry in all the death and revenge! Someone like him should not be alive.

So he smirked, he had been waiting for his death.

That night was not his time to die. It was the Major who saved them. Even Johan, despite having seen that the Major was a good shot, have never figured him to be so light on his feet and good. Before Johan knew what was happening he saw the man in front of him shriek and stumble back as the Major came and stabbed him in his side, the blood coming out onto the Major's Feldgrau combat gloves. Johan gave a laugh when he saw to his delight that it was an SS knife. The two other Jews shifted their rifles onto the Major, whereas before they had been covering Weiss and Friedrich. Both of them were shot by Friedrich who fired from the ground, hitting both of them. The leader had not died yet, so Johan shot him point blank four times. He collapsed with a look of disbelief and injustice at having been killed by the four SS soldiers. "Run!" shouted Weiss and all four sped off to the gate. They made it safely before any more Jews could arrive and shoot at them. They made it through the Gate without being shot at even though Johan was afraid of that, unsurprisingly the Major was the last one in. Even though he was out of breath he was still smiling, happy in war.


	15. Chapter 15

"I am still not grasping why the Major wants me to learn of this in more precise detail" said Friedrich.

"I cannot fathom the reason behind that either" replied Johan. They were now both walking back towards Johan's quarters. There was not much to do today, after the briefing that was. Both men thought about it silently until they stopped in front of Johan's quarters. "I am still not sure why, though I'd be happy to continue this inside over some blood."

"What is all this about?" said a disturbing deep yet unmistakably female voice form behind them both.

Johan turned and nearly let out a sigh of vexation at the sight of Zorin Blitz, who for some unaccountable reason was wielding her scythe. He would have sighed with vexation had he not feared the scythe. For some reason Friedrich was not as afraid of Zorin Blitz as he was.

"It is none of your concern Blitz" he responded curtly "You really should learn to stay out of Battalion members' affairs in both the normal inquisitive sense and the powers which you possess." He was glaring at her through squinted eyes and Johan reflected he had not dared do that to Zorin Blitz.

Zorin Blitz had been renowned, as a man of course, who was a fierce determined fighter, who would never give up and truly stick to the principles of the SS, whatever those were. She and Johan had crossed swords before and with him in unfortunate circumstances.

When the Feldjagerkorps had been formed, to keep discipline as it became evident that defeat was inevitable, Johan found himself subordinated to Zorin Blitz. She had never been a Military Policeman, but she was far more brutal and cruel than even Johan. Considering Johan's past this was truly shocking, while at the same time appealing to him.

Suddenly, something occurred to him, his left jerked uncontrollably, and he made a noise as if he was dealing with intense pain and his face scrunched up like he was in pain, even though he wasn't. He looked up, Friedrich was looking at him with concern, with empathy, Blitz's face was one of contempt, even if, to Johan's immense surprise, her eyes had a twinkle of sympathy. He looked to both of them and said "Forgive me." He then turned to Friedrich "We will have to continue it some other time, right now I need some peace, my apologies." He saw Friedrich give him an understanding wave, as Johan ducked quickly into his quarters.

He shut the door, and he gasped for air, as if he was drowning. He gasped and stumbled forward, tossing his cap with vampiric precision onto a chair, and then collapsed onto his army cot, face down. He exhaled, even though he did not technically need to breath to do anything but talk, or if he was eating it blow on hot soup, every vampire on the base did it. He was no exception. His room was colored entirely Feldgrau, with some dark wooden book cabinets, a desk as well as photographs. One of his regrets was that one of them was not of Esther. He went to sleep, even though technically he should have gone into his coffin, beds allowed more freedom of movement. Why should he sleep in a coffin? Why should any of them?

Johan had of course been part of the Regular Army Feldgendarmerie at first. After the anti-partisan action in Yugoslavia he and his men had been made into SS Feldgendarmes on the authority of the Major, who Johan had discovered wielded far more authority than his rank would suggest. He had top secret orders from the Fuhrer which he could always show whenever anybody questioned him.

Most of his time, before 1941 had consisted of normal occupation duties in France, where he was not unduly hostile to the Civilian population, even though he was under no illusions as to their feelings for him and his men. Johan von Gentz, like everyone else in the Battalion had changed on the Eastern Front. The brutality with which the Soviet Union was occupied, and the wanton brutality displayed by partisans when they killed German soldiers was enough to drive anyone insane and make them lose their moral bearing. Unlike some of the others, Johan had not been at Babi Yar, but he had heard stories from Friedrich and the Major. When they told them, he sensed they either knew or felt some things they would never admit. Johan did not know of course that the only thing they refused to talk about was the empty sex some of them had had.

Johan had of course been under strain. The atrocities he had committed were not extraordinary. He had used force to extract the locations of partisans from civilians. He preferred to shoot women or children first for shock value, people expected men to be shot first not women or children, yet he had not enjoyed it at the time. He had organized mass executions and done it with diligence and while he had enjoyed it each and every time he had gunned someone down as they were either shoved from a truck screaming into the line of fire of his schmeisser or soiled themselves before a pit they themselves had dug. Yes he would enjoy it immensely each and every time, but not long afterwards he would feel empty. Not as empty as he understood Friedrich and the others had felt just after Babi Yar, but still he felt horrible and he would try and fill the hole with drink and food. He tried once having contact with a woman, but he couldn't do anything because he felt so devoid of passion or even sexual desire, the killing had drained it out of him. All of this made him despise the regime more than he already did. When he was younger he had always had a more than vague distaste for their Nazis and their divisive politics. He had always preferred the Liberals or the Social Democrats to anyone else. That they could make him feel this way and make it so that he viciously dissociated himself from his parents rather than have them see what he had become, made him hate them passionately. He was an empty shell and he needed to be filled.

Johan's Babi Yar moment, as it were had not been Stalingrad or even the action in Yugoslavia, he had broken before that. It was policing Poland and Czechoslovakia throughout most of 1942. He had still worn a Regular Army uniform instead of an SS one. It made little difference. The Feldgendarmie was usually used by the SS to help in committing atrocities in the rear.

The occasion for this particular massacre had been the assassination of Reichsprotektor Reinhard Heydrich. The SD men who had participated had wanted revenge against the "racial inferiors" for Heydrich. Some of Johan's men had felt that way too, he had said nothing.

They had been told soon after disembarking in Prague that they were to report to the SD officer present at the station who would give them their assignment; they would start work that very day. It was May 28th 1942.

Action against the Civilian population had started immediately after the Reichsprotektor had been assassinated. Johan's immediate superior throughout the entire time his platoon in Czechoslovakia was a detestable creature of the SD, Hauptsturmfuhrer Max Rostock. He was one of the Opera House, the very fact that he was here in contrast to what was said in the broader world was telling about the world itself, the lies, the lies and all of them from the allies!

The Secretary of State of the Protectorate, a Karl Frank, had ordered that a curfew be imposed upon Prague and anyone suspected of collaborating with the assassins of the Reichsprotektor was to be executed immediately. The duties of Johan and his unit had varied in the following days. They would sometimes be the one to randomly burst into apartment buildings. Johan now smirked as he dozed off, remembering it all, remembering what it was like.

He remembered the gloved fists of himself and his men, the fearsome gorgets from their necks and their ubiquitous submachine guns, pounding on the doors of people. Whether they were innocent or not, no one cared and neither did any of them, it was a good excuse to terrify them and make them fear and hate them all even more. And why shouldn't they be hated? If the people inside had not answered, it was not a boot but a burst of gunfire to the lock then a boot, then the booted feet stomping in searching every room, if anyone was found they usually were not arrested, they were simply gunned down. Some came at them with knives and they looked so scared so desperate! Oh how exhilarating it had been to gun them down, ripping their stupid bodies to pieces with the bullets tearing away chunks of flesh and revealing the bones and organs underneath which had left floors slick with blood.

Sometimes they had been watching over the SD and SS men who ironically had been more merciful than them. They had watched over the lines of prisoners, MP-40s at the ready. Some of the men had been tense, others had scowled at the frightened masses. Johan had smiled impatiently, let one of them step out of line, let one of them, his eyes had blazed with insanity and this was before Stalingrad, before the Major! Let them one of them make a mistake! Some of them had, and he had made sure swiftly that they and two others next to them would never make another mistake. This was not technically part of their orders, but he did not care and neither did anyone else. "Ladies and Gentlemen if any of you move we will kill you and two others next to you no matter how small or old!" he had shouted after the first time he had done it. It had been his last where he could savor the kills himself and the emotions of his victims for himself, everyone had joined in.

On the Umschlagplatz they had shoved screaming victims into cattle cars. Anyone who had fallen or had lain down to escape and not wanting to go had dogs set on them to maul and bite them or they had found that they had been trampled underfoot by the rush or by the boots of the SS, SD and Feldgendarmes on their bodies. He both chuckled insanely just before he lost the ability to do anything as he drifted into sleep, his eyes blazing red and his teeth bared as he thought of Esther, wishing she was here, still young.

There was more of course, more slaughter, days of it, the pinnacle of it all for him was Lidice. While the slaughter happened and it worn him out from sixteen hour work days he had little opportunity to fill the killing taking more from him than it initially deposited. He had always collapsed and slept, as he was now. Had he dreamed, had he had nightmares of what he had done, of what was going to happen to him for what he had done? No, or perhaps more accurately it was impossible to say.

He dreamed of Esther, of her looking at him, wanting to kill him, but not being able to bring herself to. She dragged him out of the bathtub without drying him, all the while laughing at her for not having the strength of will to do what was necessary. "That is why you Jews were so good at dying, even in rebellion." He had felt the punch coming and jerked himself, out of the way, but had not broken his bonds even though he could have, he wanted to play this out a bit more. Instead she shoved him into the wall in such a way that he had to sit back down. She glared at him and looked like she was resisting an urge to hurt him.

The next day was much the same, with the men still being surly and being professional, feeding him with the same sullenness, the same lack of any compassion. "Why did you become a Mossad agent?" he asked the not inbred looking man.

"So that I could be a part of the force that gives fear to those like you who hounded us all our existence as an exiled people, now it's our turn."

"Really? Just what makes a land inhabited by few Jews since the destruction of the second temple yours? Is it not the land of those who have inhabited it since then?"

"A Nazi like you would not understand" he said as he shoved some more soup into Johan. One reason Johan was talking is that he felt like wretching up some of the soup and was stalling for time.

"Again, really? I know about the second temple, I know that you people came to Europe and gradually spread all over and often married into the local population. Just what makes you different from any other faith? What makes you an ethnic group? If Africans can be Jews than how can you say Judaism is a race."

"Well evidently you thought we were so why are you pretending that you care?"

"Exactly" cried Johan in triumph. "You see, you may all talk so proudly about surviving, about beating us, about standing up to us with some pathetic resistance, but in the end we still won because we ingrained into your heads our thoughts and convinced you to think about yourselves the way we wanted other people to see you. That way they would not help you and that was one of the reasons we killed you all so easily."

Rather than hit him, the man threw the rest of the soup in Johan's face. He just laughed as the man stormed off and he heard the plate clang in the kitchen sink. How easy it all was. Meanwhile when it was her turn or when she was watching Johan would tell stories. When he had brought up what he had done in Czechoslovakia, it had been the ugly man feeding him, the overwhelming sense of looking at an inbreed overwhelmed him. He preferred to look at Esther, and this he could tell was angering the man, which pleased him.

The night before they had received their orders and Johan had recalled looking forward to the massacre. The orders were that that night they would get on some trucks with some SD men, and that they would execute, the following day, an action against a village in reprisal for what had happened to the Reichsprotektor. They of course had to gather rations, which were inferior to what one could get at the front, and then get on the trucks. They would sleep outdoors in their vehicles. As Feldgendarmes, they were fully mechanized and for the entire operation Johan had his own Kubelwagen.

They had gotten up very early in the morning to drive to the village, in order to catch everyone in their beds and at such an hour that almost everyone would be asleep. The official record read that all the men were to be killed, the women shipped to KZs and all children suitable for Germanization to be put up for adoption. The real orders were to make the existence of the village of Lidice a myth, something that was expressed well in an otherwise stupid move, _Schindler' List_.

The Feldgendarmes were all in Kubelwagen and sealed off the exists to the village while the SD men went in to gather everyone. Several times the bark of the machine pistol of one Johan's men barked out in the early hours of that day as someone tried to make a run for it, his favorite one was seeing a burst of fire, tear apart a young boy. He couldn't have been more than four years of age. The rest of the story of Lidice was well known, except for the part about letting anybody in that village leave alive, everybody had been killed.

This he told to the man who was now watching him with horror and disgust. He turned his head slightly he saw the look of loathing on Esther's face, but it was one that had a look of drawn curiosity, so he went on, everything would happen soon.

"I don't want to talk about Lidice anymore for the moment, let's talk about the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising" he said smiling viciously "That was when you Jews were at your best" he said smiling cruelly.

After getting out of the Ghetto they had been detained for four hours by Baltic SS, which amused the Major but irritated Friedrich and Johan. "Perhaps the untermenschen are better Nazis than we are gentlemen" he said jokingly, reclining on the bunk in the prison cell they had been stuck in.

An SS officer, one of those sort who was shocked that Jews, people, could fight and was if anything, angry at the four SS soldiers for running instead of dying, he looked like he wanted to have them all executed when he said. "Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, you and your two officers will be moved to better accommodations and you are expected by Brigadefuhrer Stroop tomorrow at 1 PM for lunch. Come with me a car is waiting to take you to your accommodations."

Having been at a few meetings with Polish and Czech 'leaders' where they were promised more comfortable accommodation only to find themselves within a few hours being shot by a firing squad or deported to a concentration camp, Johan was the most reluctant of the four.

The Major as usual was smiling, so sure, and always a step or more ahead of everyone else. As they were being led out of the barracks where the holding cell was, the Major looked up at the officer and asked, ever so amicably "Tell me Hauptsturmfuhrer have you ever heard of Adolf Hitler?"

The man was livid, but tried not to immediately show his anger at being insulted to a superior officer. "Yes sir of course I have, he has saved Germany and soon shall lead us to a victory where we dominate the inferior races."

The Major chuckled and shook his head "I see. Tell me Hauptsturmfuhrer have you ever met the Fuhrer?"

"No Herr Sturmbannfuhrer I am sad to say I have never had that honor."

"I thought as much, because I have." The Major said, reaching into his jacket to produce a copy of what Johan only later discovered was order 666. The look on the other man's face was priceless as he read the paper and the signature "So you see, I hope Brigadefuhrer Stroop knows better than you do who you are dealing with. If you are thinking of doing something to" he chuckled disturbingly again, a chuckle that brought vicious smiles to the faces of Friedrich and Johan "any of us, you will not live for very long Hauptsturmfuhrer. You will also discover if you try to do anything to any of my people that I take the deaths of my soldiers personally.

Such an excellent toady the man had been "J…Ja…Jawohl Herr Sturmbannfuhrer."

"Thank you and do make sure that everyone, including Herr Weiss gets good accommodations and that you provide us with new uniforms, we have all gone through a lot of trouble to do this."

The accommodations had been nice and Johan had slept well that night and eaten well the next morning. Weiss had been approached by the Major as they all prepared themselves shortly before the Major headed to see the Brigadefuhrer. He smiled at all of them. "Gentlemen, I want all of you with me for this. We are the only ones with actionable intelligence on the state of the enemy and what it will be like for us to complete a deporting action in the Ghetto. As you can tell from our encounter last night, the SS is going to do something stupid. It is going to act in accordance with how it would expect Jews to behave. As a result if we do not convince the Brigadefuhrer to view the Ghetto as a Military target, many men will die unnecessarily. So I need all the support you can bring in, we shall go from most junior to most senior. If we cannot convince him" he chuckled as his insane eyes disappeared beneath the reflection of the sun from the window on his glasses "then, we shall see."

"Sir," Friedrich had ventured "I doubt Brigadefuhrer Stroop would want us there, he will simply want you to give the briefing and I am sure you know as much we do, and have thought about these issues far more than we have sir. Truly I can say it has been the greatest privilege of my life to have had you as my commanding officer. But on this sir, I disagree, our presence would only anger the Brigadefuhrer. He would think it insulting that you would be bringing in lowly persons such as ourselves into the room and that we would be ganging up on him and in violation of SS norms. Furthermore sir, you yourself know that we are outside of SS norms and will speak our minds as we see it, you may be indispensible sir but we are not."

It was typical of the Major's indulgent command style that he listened to this with a calm and gentle smile. "I do see your points Obersturmfuhrer Craebel, but the fact remains that we will fail, your presence and all of us, in ascending rank making the same points, will only add to his humiliation when he fails and he will have known that four people told him the same thing and he ignored it!"

"Failure sir?" asked Johan "But that is not guaranteed!"

"Come of course it is. You don't really expect the Nazis to suddenly change their thinking about the Jews even though the events of January would suggest that it is indeed no longer true that the Jews will be docile. You are right that I have thought things through more carefully, but not on the issues we will be discussing with the Brigadefuhrer, if anything that is Unterscharfuhrer Weiss here" he said gesturing to the huge blond man who was in fact Jewish. "Tell me Adolf, how has it been being in the SS, being who you are and having to do those things?" he asked with a psychotic smile.

At this, the normal cocky, smug attitude of Weiss dissolved and his eyes watered, but he did not have tears "It has been indescribable sir, but I have done what is needed to survive. Even so, I would rather be, even at the cost of lying to myself, German than be excluded." Then tears did come down his face "As you yourself said sir, it is all nonsense, why shouldn't someone like me be allowed to be in the SS? Why is someone like me not German?"

"It's alright" said the Major soothingly, a thoughtful look now on his face "we will defend you, all of us, 'til the end. But I must ask you Adolf to do the most courageous thing ever, I must ask you to tell the Brigadefuhrer that you are Jewish and to explain exactly what those people on the other side of that wall are feeling. You, better than any of us know."

Weiss was horrified, but as his superior Johan first protested "But sir…"

"Do not worry Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz" said the Major, waving his hand dismissively. "I have orders from the Fuhrer himself and I know that what I said is true of all of us. However in order to ensure that what I have planned works, we must seed the origins of doubt in Brigadefuhrer Stroop's mind." He looked back at the horrified Weiss, whose face was a mask of panic, clutching at his heart. "After all this man is the image of the perfect Aryan man." He now laughed openly and some of the SS personnel passing by stared at the short bespectacled, pudgy man laughing insanely. "Look at all of us, who do meet the 'racial' criteria of the SS. We're short, have the wrong eye color and none of us have particularly good physiques yet we are more quote 'Aryan' than this man? This man is any less German than we are? This man is inherently inferior to us? This man has a smaller head? This man has dark skin? Nonsense! All of it nonsense!" He lowered his voice. Johan and Friedrich had been glancing nervously at the shocked soldiers who were wondering, and probably suspecting what the Major was talking about. "We must do this altogether for if we create doubt, the Brigadefuhrer will certainly do what I expect him to do and when his doubts blow up in his face, gentlemen, we shall have complete power over him."

After that they marched up the stairs, all in new Feldgrau uniforms. Clean shaven and all with fresh haircuts and clean bodies. The three officers wore peaked caps and Weiss wore a Wapo cap and all with the Totenkopf, had anybody snapped a photograph, they would have looked good for propaganda. They stood outside the Brigadefuhrer's office. All straightened their uniforms. The Major smiled "When you're ready gentlemen." All nodded nervously and they pushed the doors open.

Friedrich could see Johan was in trouble when he let him go. Johan was far better at hiding his troubled nature, perhaps because he had made some sort of peace with what had happened, but Friedrich never would. Although he was happy in a sense at everything that had happened, he still felt incomplete. Without the war he would never have met all his friends, all the men in the Battalion, he would never have known such experiences and things which he still could not fully comprehend, yet were wonderful. Without the war he wouldn't have been granted eternal youth and immortality. Yet…

Zorin Blitz snorted next to him "Really, you two are just as weak as each other. All getting so guilty over what we did, but I remember the both of you being the most eager to kill the enemy, to kill innocents, you were and are both such misanthropes."

Friedrich knew this was true but was irritated about this coming from Blitz, the one who seemed not to feel any guilt, who seemed, unlike the rest of them, unable to grasp that they were all going to hell and that they deserved that. "Really Blitz I have little interest in being lectured by you. You felt plenty guilty that night after Babi Yar." Blitz's face became livid at the mention. Friedrich smiled, he had touched a nerve, the light of the hallways reflected off his glasses. "Tell me Blitz do you really like the Hauptsturmfuhrer, or is it that you just want that sex to have actually meant something, to have been a nice experience, Instead of what it was? No passion, no joy, no warmth, simply mechanical without meaning, purpose or even any pleasure. Is that it?"

She growled, and the tattoos on her face twitched and Friedrich was scared, but he did not show it. Instead he held his knowing smile, because he was amused, he had struck a nerve, he had thought impossible with Blitz. She seemed coiled and ready to strike, but she did not.

"What makes you think that the Hauptsturmfuhrer would even be interested in you? I've known you for a very long time Blitz, you're not even nice to look at, you're a freak." Her look was such that no matter what he did or said he would be struck so his smile deepened and he went on "Or is it that you have never gotten over the fact that I and many others were turned before you? That nobody on this base wants to talk to you, and that you have for nearly fifty five years had no one to confide in, no one to share anything with?"

"Shut up!" Blitz shouted as she came forward, her fist barreled towards him with far more force and clumsiness than normal Friedrich sidestepped her and punched her in the tattooed side of the face. She reeled and glared at him.

"Really Blitz?" Friedrich said while smirking, his eyes closed, "you really need to improve your aim when you are angry. I can see I touched a nerve," he opened his eyes, "tell me, what is really going in that mind of yours? Tell me why the supposed infatuation?"

She again growled at him. "I want him to undo it" she said.

Friedrich was puzzled "How? What do you mean?" he also kept himself tense in case she attacked.

"I didn't think you knew about that, I mean the way that…felt." She admitted this shyly, but angrily. Suddenly she drooped, as much as Blitz ever could, that is she leaned back against the wall and looked bitterly amused. "It was my first time, maybe I'll tell you about the second time later. It was also done exactly as you said and that I lay with another woman, even if I did not mate with her, and I have to see her every day disgusts me. It also disgusts and insults me that he did it with both of us, and that I was stupid enough to go along with it. I hate it that the following day he went to comfort her first simply because she was crying pathetically from being hurt. On top of that the pain, I also learned that day I would never be able to have children, because of what he did and often afterward everyday functions could be painful. The thought of doing it again was horrible, because of what had happened and the pain. The worst part is exactly what you said about it, we all regretted it, and I can tell it weighs on him as well. Besides" she smiled suggestively "he's a pleasure to look at and now that I'm a vampire, I could get something back if I were able to drink his blood. Even so I can tell he has a certain uptightness he didn't have before. I'll say it again he feels guilty"

"Of course it does" Friedrich snarled "The Hauptsturmfuhrer may be a silent, murderous brute, he has killed as much as we have, if not more, but of course he feels guilty. Can't you tell that from the way he was toward Rip Van?"

Blitz snorted and reached into her trouser pocket to pull a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. She placed the cigarette in her mouth and lit it. She replaced the lighter and took a long drag. "One good thing about being a vampire is that I no longer worry about this killing me." The sensually cruel smile appeared on her face. "I know you and everyone else, even the Major thinks I am a freak, someone to be used because she is good at killing, who only thinks of killing, inflicting pain and delighting in both." She snorted "maybe you all don't see it but there is more to me than that." She quit leaning against the wall and stood up straight "Even though I was mistaken for a man by the recruiting officer and they did not conduct a medical exam, for some reason, even though I do enjoy killing and inflicting pain, contrary to what you and others may think I like men and only men, and I enjoy being a woman, I would not want to be a man."

Friedrich shook his head and smiled "You could have fooled me Blitz, you seem to be resentful that you were born a woman. You dress like a man and wear your hair short like a man and I bet you even allowed hair to grow hair on your body when you were still human." Vampires, could only have hair on their scalps and sometimes on their faces and bodies if it had made them more attractive in life. It hadn't in the case of almost everyone in the battalion.

"Sometimes conditions do not allow for it" Blitz shrugged. She cocked her head sideways "Besides I know you shaved your body when you could, queer."

"Give me a woman and I'll show you what kind of homosexual I am Blitz!" Friedrich fired back.

She waved at him dismissively "Oh, of course, of course, except you are still a virgin, after all these years, but unlike you I do not seriously think you are what I accuse you of being. You didn't have much hair to begin with and you did it because after being dirty for a long time, you wanted to make sure all the grime was gone that there was nowhere it could hide. Really such a simple action signifies nothing except what you did, nothing more. You see it is unfair of you to accuse me of being a lesbian of some sort. I like men and I always have. I kept my body trim and muscular because I'm a soldier and I wanted to be able to surmount any difficulty, survive anything, be quicker, and be stronger than my enemy. You on the other hand wanted to remain as you were; you wanted always to be what you wanted to be and did not want to physically change for war. I kept my hair short for the same reason you did and do. I hated it getting in the way, the more of it there was, the more dirt was trapped in it and the more I hated myself. None of that stops me from liking men." She stopped and took another drag; her face looked up at the ceiling. "You know besides the Hauptsturmfuhrer, there are lots of good looking men on this base, men who I find attractive. Your friend in there is one of them, even if he is fundamentally a weakling like you." Now it was Friedrich's turn to growl. She flicked her cigarette at him and turned away "Never mind, that is not what we're here for, none of us is looking for such things and I have some work I would like to do."

Friedrich sighed and walked to his quarters, when Johan was awake he would continue telling him things for now he had to go see the Major.


	16. Chapter 16

The Major liked baking and cooking, it was therapeutic and a healthy break from his normal obsession with war. Fifty five years as too long a break from war was maddening, so he had used to opportunity to experiment with cooking. For once the Doktor had been a guinea pig, and it had taken him ten years to become a master at cooking, all so he could happily enjoy meals for himself, tucked away in the darkest depths of the Amazon, cast into oblivion by defeat and forever from normal society. From what he had seen those few times he and others had ventured beyond the base told him he did not want to be part of that. Instead he wanted to be here, and he wanted his war soon, he wanted his plans to all come to fruition.

It was fortunate, he reflected, that Friedrich had turned out as he did. He had truly feared that the SD would persist and that there would be trouble with the Nazis. He had not expected Friedrich to live, but it was the one opportunity he had to make sure the man who had saved him and shown him a way to true happiness lived. There had been so much blood and seeing Friedrich's organs had made the Major uneasy on, but it had been necessary, he was grateful that his friend had not been able to feel anything. Yet a couple of hours in his disgust and fear at what was happening to Friedrich had turned to wonder as the wounds began to heal themselves and the blood became darker in color. The groans came from Friedrich's mouth as he hung between consciousness and unconsciousness as his teeth grew sharper and ever so slightly longer, the small hairs on his arms began shriveling back into the body and the pores closing, the same happened on Friedrich's face and his hair, which had not been cut for two weeks, shrunk back to his preferred length of a centimeter on top and two thirds of a centimeter on the back and sides. The stains from coffee, tea, sugar and other things he had consumed over his lifetime vanished, leaving perfectly white teeth. His dark brown eyes had glowed red for the first time, then faded back to their normal color, then back to red.

When it was complete the Major had been exultant "We have done it! Those who doubted will soon see what we are about! Truly for the men who wear the Totenkopf to be undead is the best fate possible!" Funding and his importance had increased especially after Anzio.

The oven door clanged open, as he extracted freshly baked bread. He smelled it, it was sourdough mixed with normal white flour, and it was very pleasant. He set it down and went immediately to the ducks he had been fattening. It was time for lunch and he was in the mood for something light. He had prepared a selection of cheeses. He grabbed his SS dagger from the counter beside him and smiled cruelly at the duck, delighting in what he was about to do. He liked things fresh, he brought it down swiftly and suddenly severing the creature's unsuspecting head.

As the blood came forth he grabbed the animal's body, scooped it up and shoved a bottle neck over the severed neck and collected all of the blood he could in the bottle, it would be Friedrich's first drink. He worried his friend and savior was not drinking enough blood. Though not ideal, animal blood could keep a vampire's thirst at bay, especially for one such as Friedrich who could walk in the light without any adverse effects. It was also useful to have the fat duck, not only could he extract all the organs, especially the liver he had been fattening up for some nice foie gras, but the fact could be broken down and used as flavoring, even as a sort of cooking oil and the organs were always good delicacies to say nothing of the meat. Zeitzler had long since given up begging the major to stop bringing in these animals, even though the Major made sure to use them as efficiently as possible.

From time to time Zeitzler would come to his quarters in tears on the edge of a nervous breakdown and beg the Major to stop. "It costs us thousands each year and inflation increases the cost, every year, not to mention some of the premium some companies charge for the products you want." He would then often get down on his knees, hands grasped together prayerfully "I beg you Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, find cheaper alternatives, I…cannot stand spending so much money…it…"

"Tell me Untersturmfuhrer Zeitzler what would you propose to do with it?" The Major had once asked, instead of saying "no" as he normally would.

The Battalion accountant had, tears in his eyes looked up at him. "With what Herr Sturmbannfuhrer?"

"The money of course, I've heard from Friedrich that your desire in life is merely to manage as much of it as you can, as far as you can. However if that is so, hoarding wealth ultimately signifies nothing as you well know, either it must be extended as credit or it must be spent, if not it is useless and deleterious to the wealth of the world is it not?" He smiled cruelly.

"Yes sir…but…"

"If you really were that concerned about managing as much of it as possible, tell me, why did you then rip out the fillings of people in Birkenau, why did you steal priceless treasures, that even now are with us, only to be poured into an enterprise, which would lead to more destruction of wealth and thereby less money to manage? Why did you do that? Why did you pour vast amounts of wealth into a corrupt Treasury to be pilfered by Golden Pheasants? I don't just mean men like me who were glutinous or liked fine things, but men who simply did that, contributed nothing and demanded still more austerity from others and fled, not ready to die, not willing to accept the responsibility of their orders, not having to live with them? Why did you do that if you really were and are so principled or are you trying to make up for something?"

On that occasion Zeitzler had sobbed, but gotten up and said "For…forgive me Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" he was still crying and removed his glasses so he could wipe his eyes with one of his gloved hands. "I need to go to my quarters to think things through."

The Major had remembered smiling indulgently, "It's alright Herr Zeitzler take the time you need, if you have anything you want to talk about please come and see me."

"Thank you Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" he had replied, giving an uncommonly sloppy victory salute and then left, still sobbing.

The Major had long ago learned to stop crying, except on very rare occasions. Because he and others rarely cried, they were and would be called monsters. However the reasons he had stopped crying after Babi Yar were so multitudinous it had taken him four years, when he had been kicked in the face by some huge Russian, a boot slammed on his feeble fat body and a burst of PPSH-41 had devastated his chest, to realize why he had stopped crying and why it was so good.

He began butchering the animal to get at the meat; he had worked it out to a precise art. He showed no hesitation and was entirely at rest with it, after all he had killed so many people through his actions or by pulling the trigger himself that killing an animal was less than nothing to him. It was one of the few times he would wear a short sleeve Feldgrau shirt and some of his old Feldgrau trousers. Mostly he would wear his favorite white or tan summer suits. Although the details of his plan was very clear in his mind, for he had spent over fifty years planning it, he still was not sure what to wear for when they finally got the war started. He did the butchering always in a large wooden bowl so that he could gather the Blood for Friedrich.

It may have seemed sloppy of the Major to still be preparing while he was expecting a guest, but as with most things with him he had a very good reason for this to be so. He looked in this instance, with his bloody hands and Feldgrau, blood stained smock, with his trousers suspended by braces and his hair the way it always was he looked like what he was, a middle class German. However the Major at least had abandoned any loyalty to his country. Surely what he and everyone else was doing, including Friedrich was not for Germany, it was for all of them and it wasn't for National Socialism. Still they remained German, yet they owed no loyalty to that country. No what they were doing was deeper than anything that might be superficially supposed, and they all, on some level knew it.

The Major knew only he fully comprehended just what they were, what they all wanted and why they knew that time their killing would be even better than the war itself, but each had to discover it for his or herself, he could not let them in on the secret. Friedrich was getting encouragingly close, but even he was stunted by his attachments to a past idea of himself. Perhaps that was what made Friedrich strong, and why besides being one of the Major's oldest comrades, he had such high hopes for him. Friedrich retained the strongest connection of all of them to his former morality, a sense of normal right and wrong, it made him one of the most human of the Battalion.

There was a knock on the metal door, the Major knew that knock. "Come in Herr Craebel I'm still making our lunch."

The door opened behind the Major, he turned around and both men looked into the blank discs of the other man's glasses. "Hello Herr Sturmbannfuhrer is there anything I can help you with?"

"No please sit down and do tell me how things have gone so far with our dear Provost Lieutenant" the Major said as he continued cutting away at the freshly killed animal.

"Well sir" said Friedrich from behind him "he began telling me the story, and I believe we came up to his third or fourth day in captivity. Sir, I still do not see what this has to do with me, I was never in that apartment and Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz never told me where it was."

"Ah that is true, and it is hard to see what is relevant to you until he tells you the whole story" the Major chuckled, it was all so amusing and so perfect. "Albeit Obersturmfuhrer you did have your own nasty experience while you spent four days searching for him."

"Yes I did sir" responded Friedrich nervously.

The Major had stripped away the skin of the duck, he poured some French sea salt over the duck and a hint of cinnamon and began massaging both into the meat. "Come now Friedrich there is no need to be nervous or ashamed you are the only vampire to have survived an encounter with and outwitted the Judas Priest at the same time."

"Well sir, meeting Alexander Anderson and knowing who he was, will always be an unforgettable experience."

Friedrich had, after the tour group had gotten back frazzled and panicked from a five day search for Johan, told the Major this story, which helped the Major solve the remainder of the puzzle behind what had happened in Buenos Aires.

It had still been uncommonly cool for the season that day as the soldiers, besides Friedrich had split into groups of two and dashed helter skelter all over to enquire with anybody but the authorities as to the whereabouts of Johan. In one case Friedrich had gone into one of the many churches and asked the priest, who had been in the shadows praying at the time, if he had seen Johan.

What saved Friedrich is that he was not arrogant because he was a vampire, as a matter of fact all were very good about maintaining their cover, but Friedrich's past meant that he was the most convincing, most civilian like of them all. "What is it that troubles you, who is the missing one my child?"

The man had emerged from the shadows and Friedrich had nearly fled for his life. The short blond hair, the glasses, the scared face, the deep authoritative voice, the long grey coat and the golden cross. It was Alexander Anderson, Bayonet Anderson, Judas Priest, the one who could not be reasoned with or pleaded to.

Friedrich's horror and dismay had shown on his face and he said, while keeping the movement of his lips to a minimum so as not to betray his teeth, "I'm so sorry padre to have disturbed you, I shall be gone now."

"Do not be worried my son, I have time to help any who are in need for such is the command of our lord, Jesus Christ, A-men!" Such a comforting phrase was said with the edge of a man who killed for a living and who was completely deranged and not particularly interested in the way Jesus had actually been, and Friedrich shivered beneath the same double breasted dark grey suit he had killed Anna in. His knees began wobbling.

"Well padre" he said making sure to hide the photograph, which showed Johan smiling, but also revealed his teeth, "I was wondering if you had seen a man with glasses, about my height" he faltered "hair slightly lighter than mine, uh…uh dressed with about the same garb but with a slightly lighter color of suit" the lack of normal clarity and grammar in Friedrich's speech had signified to the Major that even such a veteran and fearsome killer as Friedrich was in awe of this taller man who killed vampires without mercy. "He went missing yesterday, I can't find him, you see him and me…" He stopped and looked horrified upon the man who was coming closer, the light from the stained glass windows creating a kaleidoscope of colors on the man's glasses and his face was hidden by shadow. One could not tell what he was thinking but evidently it was not anything benevolent.

"My child you do not speak Spanish, you speak German, do you need to go back to your country?" he asked now stepping into the light. His face was still half hidden and Friedrich could not tell what was going on in his eyes but he sensed nothing good and the priest was as tall as the Hauptsturmfuhrer. Amazingly he was even more menacing, perhaps that was just because Friedrich knew that the Hauptsturmfuhrer was fallible and more than just a killer, this man seemed to lack any warmth or compassion, or any desire for love. What a perfect man to kill for such a heartless institution as the Vatican!

"Yes father which I why I am looking for him, you see our business trip concluded unexpectedly and uh…oh…early…so we are looking over Buenos Aires for him, because we are worried and…"

"We?" the man suddenly said with force and suspicion "You only mentioned yourself my son!"

"Um, yes, oh…oh" Friedrich was tensing and waiting for the moment when the man would bring out his infamous bayonets and kill him "how silly of me father, I…you…see."

"My son" the man said in such a voice of authority and intent that Friedrich was badly shaken by the sound of it "what sharp teeth you have!"

"I, uh, all the better to eat you with my dear?" he asked nervously. "Oh God, please Father, have mercy on one of his children!" Friedrich pleaded pathetically.

Suddenly the man's face came into full view, he was smiling warmly and speaking in a gentle voice "Why ever are you saying that my son? I wish you nothing but good cheer and good will!"

"What?" asked Friedrich confused.

"Oh you see you have very sharp teeth" Anderson had said "normally that is the mark of the devil, one to whom the Lord's name is unmentionable, yet you were perfectly capable and were not repulsed by his holy name, you must be good. No I am afraid I have not seen such a man. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, no" said Friedrich relieved. He bowed and crossed himself, even though he was a Lutheran by rearing, now an atheist "thank you father." He turned and tried to walk calmly.

"Go in peace my son! May the blessings of our savior shine upon you!" Once Friedrich was out he sped away at a speed not even Jesse Owens could have matched.

The Major laughed, "It seems, especially after the experiment you performed Obersturmfuhrer that although as vampires you and the others are affected by holy objects which are thrust into you, nothing else that normally would deter a vampire does so for you. Truly then in that sense you are all improvements over the sickly creatures which stalk the night, thinking nothing of themselves!"

He had now left the duck to sit and was instead setting out the table while his guest sat, with a pensive look on his face, thinking of his past. The Major, was thinking of his friends future. He smiled with warm cruelty and thrust the bottle of blood at Friedrich "Here I know you don't like human blood, so here is some fresh duck's blood."

He was pleased to see Friedrich's face light up, as he gently accepted the bottle. "Oh thank you Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, that is most considerate." The Major set his plate, knife and fork to the left of Friedrich so that, as usual they were sat next to, yet across from each other.

They ate and the Major as he spread some Foie gras over some of the bread, remarked, "I must say the way you, Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz, and Unterscharfuhrer Weiss handled the meeting in Brigadefuhrer Stroop's office was remarkable, none of you lost your nerve or showed any undue nervousness."

"Ah, yes, I remember that, thank you, if I do say so myself, Johan and I showed no real fear, but of course Adolf was afraid."

"Well of course he should have been" responded the Major nonchalantly.

That had been a most productive session, as with almost all things in his life after he had been saved, things had gone exactly as he had foreseen they would or had worked out in such a way that they were entirely conducive to his ultimate goal. Such a fool as Stroop was easy to guess at.

They had walked in and all lined up in a neat row with the Major on the right of the group and Unterscharfuhrer Weiss on the left. The Brigadefuhrer had stood up and given them a victory salute. "Heil Hitler!" he had barked.

All had returned the salute but, in a sign of insubordination for them, responded with "Sieg Heil!"

They had dropped their salutes and Stroop had turned his attention on the Major. The Major had known he had been right about this man. Here was a man without any great intelligence or vaulting ambitions, sophistication or charm. He was the sort of drudge the Major had toadied up to when he was younger, who he had unquestioningly accepted as his natural superiors. The Party relied on them and they were not very reliable, in that their competence was exceedingly narrow. Stroop, in other words, was a systems manager. "Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" he said gruffly "I see you have brought guests."

"Jawohl Herr Brigadefuhrer, I have, they escaped with me and all three of them can provide extremely useful insights into the enemy force you will have to use the utmost skill and care in driving out" he had smirked with mischievous cruelty, one that showed although he was pretending to respect the chain of command he in fact had his own agenda and did not actually follow or respect the orders of the nominally higher ranking officer in front of him "the enemy."

Stroop had glowered furiously at him "You had better mind yourself in my presence Major, such antics may fly with Obersturmbannfuhrers and those weaklings in the Army and the Auxiliaries but I will not tolerate such an attitude! Furthermore why are you speaking of those people as an enemy? They have not fought and they cannot fight, it is against their nature, and they are too weak as a race. All I need to know is where to find the rats!"

"Oh course Herr Brigadefuhrer" the Major had said softly and with still more veiled contempt oozing from every syllable "both Obersturmfuhrer Craebel and Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz have spent considerable time above the surface, disguised as two Jews and can fill you in on the nature of threat."

"Proceed Obersturmfuhrer" the Brigadefuhrer responded while glaring at the Major, whose smirk only deepened.

"Thank you Herr Brigadefuhrer" said Friedrich without even moving his head to look at the Major. "Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz and I spent two weeks memorizing the routes of guards and sentries. The enemy is lightly armed and undersupplied with ammunition. They have no good heavy weapons to use against us, but they could cause damage with Molotov cocktails, homemade explosive devices and the like. Given the restricted nature of the Ghetto, I would recommend we skirmish and test them out first, make them waste their ammunition, take it slow, take it steady. That way we will lose very little and take away most of their capacity to effectively resist."

"Stop right there Obersturmfuhrer" Stroop said menacingly. The Major noted with pride that Friedrich straightened up but instead of looking rebuked, smirked at the superior officer. "I don't like this, did spending so much time with Jews, or rather _hiding_ from them make you soft and weak life them?" he asked, his voice oozing venom.

"No Herr Brigadefuhrer I am merely delivering an appropriate tactical assessment" responded Friedrich in a mischievous voice.

Stroop turned his attention back to the Major "Sturmbannfuhrer do you allow your subordinates to be this way with you, do you even know how to command?"

Bobbing up and down on his toes the Major responded "I let all my subordinates give their frank opinions as long as they ultimately obey my orders and I actively consider everything they tell me sir, so far my combat record would seem to prove that is an excellent way of running a unit." The Major could tell by the look on the SS General's face that he wanted to shoot all of them right then and there on the spot for insubordination.

Stroop turned from the Major to Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz "Untersturmfuhrer, what are your thoughts?"

Von Gentz straightened up and said "Sir the Jews have many concealed bunkers where they are hiding, I see extensive preparations in place for a siege, including the stocking of food and other ancillary items which could be used to help in a battle. We should not expect a battle sir or even a normal clearing action, these people will fight to the death, from the oldest to the youngest sir, everyone in there could be an armed hostile and will, no matter how feeble they might be, try and kill us. A show of force without adequate preparations would be disastrous."

"Untersturmfuhrer?" asked Stroop open endedly, his arms now behind his back.

"Ja, Herr Brigadefuhrer?" asked Johan back.

"Did you go to an SS academy or have you been inducted in from the Regular Army?"

"Sir, I was trained as a Regular officer, the Sturmbannfuhrer inducted myself and my unit into the SS last fall."

"That explains your weakness and the lack of proper education all of you seem to have." He turned to Unterscharfuhrer Weiss "unlike the rest of you" he said looking at the three officers, who were now smirking at the General "this man has no reason to fear the Jews, indeed to dominate them. Such a fine specimen of Aryan perfection! Tell me what you think Unterscharfuhrer!" he said with a combination of contempt for the other officers, Nazi braggadocio and a hint of desperation to hear what he wanted.

Weiss snapped to attention and spoke clearly, even though the Major could see in his eyes he was terrified "Herr Brigadefuhrer ich bin Jude."

The Major chuckled audibly to add to Stroop's consternation. The General wheeled on the Major and came, for the first time, from behind his desk and demanded "What do you think you're up to Sturmbannfuhrer? What did you think you were doing when you told this man to play a practical joke?" he was now using his height to intimidate the Major. Since he had been saved the Major had long since stopped caring when people used such tactics and he was no longer scared of people like that. He looked up at the General and smirked.

As the Major had hoped Johan spoke "It is no joke sir, no practical joke either, this man is Jewish."

The General now left the Major and went to Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz, stood in front of him and slapped him across the face so hard Johan actually cried out and his glasses flew off his face, skittering across the floor. He slumped down, whimpering, clutching at his face. Weiss was still standing at attention, petrified. Friedrich smirk had faded to be replaced with a calm but murderous glance at the General. The Major's smug grin held, but seeing one of his own subordinates struck like that quietly enraged him. The General kicked Johan and he fell back onto the floor, stopping himself with his arms, he was in obvious pain. "How dare you speak to me that way!" The General screamed "I was not speaking to you!" The Major left the line as the General readied to kick Johan again, he tapped Stroop on the shoulder.

The taller man spun around and by the time he completed his turn the Major was brandishing his orders from the Fuhrer. "You must understand Herr Brigadefuhrer that this man answers to me and I answer to the Fuhrer, all of them are following my orders." Incredulous Stroop seized the order and read. The Major continued on so as to keep him off balance "I have the authority, should I so wish, to take command of this operation to secure what I and these three men have left behind in the Ghetto. I shall follow your orders and let you continue as you seem pleased to do, sir" the last word added seemingly as an afterthought "but if you continue to strike Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz, you will test out whether or not Jews are any good at fighting Herr Brigadefuhrer."

The Brigadefuhrer was furious he threw the order on von Gentz, pointed to the door and said, in a voice trembling with anger, "out all of you!"

The Major smiled and calmly stated "All of that made his failure all the better."

"Indeed sir" said Friedrich, holding off on putting some bread with foie gras on it in his mouth "it is a shame about the waste of men."

"Ah well, such is war Friedrich, we musn't dwell on it too much." He watched as Friedrich ate the bread and then washed it down with some duck's blood. "At least we were all able to get front row seats as he sent those auxiliaries and Einsatztruppen into the Ghetto, where their screams of disbelief, panic and fear we unlike anything I've ever heard!" the Major declared exultantly. "The sound of a lifetime of dear convictions collapsing all at once and with such violence, from so many voices and with every single bullet, every single bullet, every moment full of explosive, earth shattering significance! Oh how I wish I could go back and be there again!"

Friedrich gave an unusually sinister laugh, his teeth fully elongated, salivating, his eyes glowed red and he chuckled more, deeply. The Major leant back in his chair, as he saw his friend recall how triumphant they had felt, especially after what had happened to Johan, to see the look on Stroop's face. Only Weiss had been too afraid to show any glee as Stroop began sweating, staring agape at what was happening. Tellingly, including the Major, they had been the only ones wearing Stahlhelmen.

The marching mass of Feldgrau and Brown had been broken up. Most of them weren't even firing back, they were looking around to see who was shooting at them. Some of them were on fire from Molotov cocktails. The Major had watched and smiled as some of them would point incredulously only to be shot by some skeletal figure, the Major had laughed out loud when one had exclaimed in shock "Look a woman is shooting at us!" only to be shot through the head by that same woman a moment later. Friedrich had a maniacal gleam in his eye from the moment the entire mess broke up, in some cases with confused Ukrainians literally running around in circles. Johan had insisted he and Weiss be armed, both were wearing Feldgendarmie gorgets. When some of the first panicked Ukrainians had come running back in a panic, their faces ashen with terror expecting the area beyond the Ghetto walls to be safe from the bullets and fire, they had been gunned down without warning by, Johan and Unterscharfuhrer Weiss. "What wrong, what's the problem?" Johan had jeered "They're just Jews, deal with them!"

In one instance a Ukrainian soldier, still in the inferno, had seen this and shot at them. Johan and Weiss had taken cover, while the Major had grabbed a KAR 98 from an astonished nearby NCO who was watching Jews; _Jews_ fight back and put a bullet in the insolent Slav's head.

Friedrich sighed contentedly "Ah the memories, I forget sometimes that there are times I have no regrets, at all about what I did, those experiences were truly wonderful, down to every last detail and motion. In those times I would feel fulfilled."

The Major stood up, both having finished and as he walked Obersturmfuhrer Craebel to the door said "You are on to a key thought with that, seize it. Find out the rest of Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz's story, and you will be much closer to understanding what we are about and why we are all here."

Friedrich looked down at him puzzled. The Major gave him a Regular Army salute as a sign of friendship and said "Trust me Obersturmfuhrer, you will see." Friedrich returned the salute and left.


	17. Chapter 17

Friedrich knew something about Johan's woman that he would never tell him. But that was irrelevant, at least until Johan finished his story.

What was more pressing to him now, after having finished that nice meal and conversation with the Major, was Zorin Blitz. He wondered, not for the first time, if she liked him. His recent conversation with her seemed to hint at the possibility even as she denied it. Also not for the first time Friedrich stepped into the sunlight, as it were, to ask himself whether or not he had feelings for Zorin. It was something vampires said and only could say but it expressed a sentiment that was not possible within the ordinary human experiences. It was necessary for vampires to step into the sunlight, in order to get somewhere and sometimes simply because they felt the need to, even though they knew it was dangerous and would soon want to get out. So Friedrich stepped into it and immediately felt the need to get out.

He was walking along the corridors of the base, with Naval, maintenance and SS personnel saluting him, but his nervousness, the suddenness in his returned salutes and eyes to the floor made it clear to everyone that something was troubling him. He had known her a long time, she had saved him many times, yet she had also threatened to kill him, bullied him and he had seen her revel in many war crimes. Then again he had reveled in killing and war crimes himself, often at the same time she had, and they had helped each other. As much as he disliked her, he had also saved her sometimes during the war, usually because of her recklessness. Despite this she was competent and got things done, her 'recklessness' often meaning that the enemy was attacked when they were not expected or holding the line meant such a tenacious resistance that in other areas, comrades in arms were spared worse because of the excessive focus on one stubborn and female SS Obersturmfuhrer. Her smile, cruel and often insane when she was killing, sometimes appeared to be sensual. Given what she had told him it made sense, but that it was directed at him sometimes left him ambivalent. What was she thinking?

Friedrich was also jealous of her. The first consideration was that even though he was the most 'ancient' of the Millennium vampires, she actually had an extraordinary power, whereas he did not. It was true that he could walk in the sun without worry, unlike her, but she had the ability to manipulate people's minds if she wished. Even though he had been nauseous at the thought of what was going to happen to him, after the surgery he had enjoyed the dominance he was able to assert over her, no longer would she be able to threaten him with execution. She tried but when she did he would always smile cruelly and show her his sharp teeth. She would then desist and in this way he had been able to control the situation to his liking. It had been crucial for Friedrich was more practical than Blitz and lives were far more precious to him. As the war came to a close, his sense of preserving lives had only increased. He knew because he was in charge and not Blitz, more young men were around after the war and often, more old comrades had the chance to come with them, or even live to reject the offer of immortality.

That had all ended when she had been put on the table, as soon as the base had been finished, he had seen her power, and she had not hesitated to pay him back for the punch he had dealt her four years prior in the underground bunker. She had also, during her surgery, inexplicably had words appear on her skin and burn into her flesh, that kept changing, and the patterns as well. One could blink and a word may have changed such as from 'table' to 'pocket' from tisch to tasche. The language varied between latin, greek, German, English and what occasionally appeared to be Romanian. He had seen a demonstration of what she could do, but as someone who wasn't being targeted, and as one of _the_ most experienced on the base with the Occult, he could see past it, but he was amazed by the effect of the words and numbers spreading everywhere, how it could seem to envelop everything if you did not see past it. He wanted a power of some sort, even though his resistance to daylight could be taken as something.

He stepped back into the shade and actually breathed a sigh of relief as he did so, it was nothing, she was a colleague, not a lover. He wondered why he seemed to be one of the few people who did not particularly care about expressing his gender or about relations with the other. He just was that way and Blitz was right he was still a virgin and sex had never particularly interested him. Ah well, perhaps that was part of why the Major had asked he get Johan to tell him his story.

Johan turned in his sleep. Artificial vampires did not necessarily need coffins, but it made sleep easier. It also had never been as easy to sleep here since he had met Esther. An expression vampires used for it was 'going Romanian.' This was in homage to Bram Stoker's novel, the only widely available record of their enemy. It referenced Dracula's propensity to target females and amass them unto themselves.

Johan had wished he was a 'true' vampire at the time so that he could turn her, if she was a virgin by plunging his teeth into her neck, or if she was impure by having her drink his blood, then she would have been his. The irony of this was not lost on him, but that is why he wanted it to happen. A beautiful Mossad agent, taught to train and kill Nazis without mercy, compassion or regret, would instead come with him, abandon her faith, abandon her country, go against God, wear the uniform and join an undead legion of her people's killers.

Johan had sensed with great amusement using normal and vampiric intuition, that the other males hated him. He was not sure how they felt about their beautiful female colleague, but they were infuriated by the way he looked at her and how she looked at him.

When the two were doing something else, Esther had come to him removed his face gag, a pained, enraged, yet tense expression on her face. He smiled the cruelly insane smile of an SS soldier, a chain dog at that. She slapped him across the face, hard, knocking his glasses askew, he grunted from the pain and had to contain baring his sharp teeth and kept his eyes under control. "Don't you dare look at me like that! Stop it!" she commanded with authority, and murderous intent. Yet there was something else in that voice, something that had her sobbing quietly, something she was trying to contain.

"Adjust my glasses for me" Johan said as he looked back up, maddened by the fact that, in order to do what he wanted to do, he couldn't massage where he had been hit by her, for having stabbed him, for having slapped him, he was definitely going to make her squeal, but not just yet.

"What?" she demanded, outraged at this impudence.

He smiled _the _smile and said in a soothing, gentle, yet haughty voice "You heard me untermensch, do it."

"You know you never need a shave" she shot back, but there was menace in her tone and Johan didn't like it. He looked at her puzzled. He saw the knife come out for his throat, but he didn't dodge, he was not panicked, he knew what she was going to do. She angrily put the blade against his throat.

He kept smiling, he looked into her eyes, with a seductive gleem in them, "go ahead" she was angered and astonished by the brazen contempt and lack of fear he was showing to her and he enjoyed the mixture of emotions. He felt a hand squeeze tightly on his almost healed shoulder, there was no great pain, it was only ever so sore, but he never took his eyes off of her. "Go ahead" he said in the same soothing voice "I want you to do it; I want it to be you. Kill me."

A tear trickled out her eye as she contemplated it but couldn't. Johan decided to goad her more. "Let me tell you the rest of my story about the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, then you'll kill me, you'll have to or you're just another jewess, just another emaciated, shriveled insekt that went to the gas chamber, that surrendered to us and hoped we would show mercy." He chuckled sinisterly.

They had stopped after gunning down about a dozen Ukrainians, they had driven home their point. It wasn't long before Feldgrau and Brown uniform figures were running from the sporadic, yet deadly accurate fire coming from the Ghetto. Weiss had actually been shot in the gorget, the bullet coming in at such an angle that all it did was knock the huge man down temporarily, he was soon back up and had joined the Major, Johan, Friedrich and the rest of astonished observers in cover. Among them were Propagandakompanie. All the tools of Goebbels, how nice it had been to see the very lies they had spun, maybe even believed, unravel before their eyes, it was quite clear that none of them had any idea what to do. Among the last out, was the Hauptsturmfuhrer who had treated them with such contempt when they had all barely made it out of the Ghetto. The Jews had ceased firing.

Johan had watched as Friedrich and the Major emerged from their cover and walked over to him. The man was out of breath, he looked panicked and stunned, he clearly was unable to adapt, to comprehend. Even from where he was Johan could tell the Major was smiling. "What wrong Hauptsturmfuhrer? Why are you running from a bunch of Jews? Why aren't you fighting to the death and to the last man like a good SS soldier?"

The man looked at the Major in disbelief. "But…but, sir, they shot back, they can't be Jews. They can't be Jews. It…it must be Polish bandits or…" he looked around him at the men shaking unable to comprehend, still backing away from the Ghetto. "I…I don't know what to do!"

"What should we do about him Herr Sturmbannfuhrer?" asked Friedrich, both of them were looking up at the taller man, he was easily 6 feet tall, taller by at least five inches to Friedrich's 170cm and the Major's 153.

"You know how we must deal with race traitors, Obersturmfuhrer Craebel" a dumb look appeared on the Hauptsturmfuhrer's face, he couldn't seem to understand what he had just heard. "In order to make sure that the German race remains pure and superior, we have to weed out the sickly and the inferior, he who cannot fight against one of the most impure, sub human races, is clearly even more subhuman than the Jews!"

"Jawohl Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" Friedrich said. Johan knew what was coming and he had smiled viciously. The Hauptsturmfuhrer had begun to say something as Friedrich pointed his Walther at him, but he was never able to say anything ever again as he was shot twice in the chest. He clutched at his wounds, stumbled backward, his peaked cap falling off, revealing his dirty blond hair and fell onto the stone pavements. Friedrich walked toward him and Johan could tell that Friedrich must have had _that_ smile on his face. Everyone, including Brigadefuhrer Stroop was watching this with horror and dread. They could not believe this was all happening. Friedrich caught up to the Hauptsturmfuhrer and shot him in the head, then emptied the rest of his clip so that the superior officer's head was all shot to bits, no one would be able to identify his remains by his face, because his corpse didn't have one. Most of all Johan loved the look on the stupid man's face who had hit him, oh how Johan wanted to execute him for failing so miserably.

The Major without even turning to the SS General addressed him. "That is how we deal with defeatists, cowards and those who cannot understand simple instructions, Herr Brigadefuhrer!" He then looked at the rest of the men who were quaking in terror from combat and what had just happened, especially since the four of them seemed so calm and were smiling. "You are all now under my command, from now on you will obey the orders of myself and my subordinates here without question, immediately. None of you have earned the right to ask questions until you respect and love your enemy!"

"What do you think…?" Stroop had started. He was interrupted as the Major whipped out his own pistol with precise calm and pointed it at the SS General, Johan and Weiss stood up and leveled their schmeissers at the Brigadefuhrer. Given how he had been humiliated by this man yesterday, Johan was trigger happy.

"Herr Sturmbannfuhrer?" he asked with anxious glee.

The Major lowered his pistol "Oh no, we need the Brigadefuhrer, we must salvage something from this and it is important that we remain as little known as possible gentlemen. Besides" he chuckled "someone as stupid as he is, isn't worth the effort, you would be wasting your bullets, save them for the Jews, indeed" he sighed contentedly "we shall have a most exquisite battle ahead of us." Weiss and Johan lowered their machine pistols. Stroop was in a mixture of anger, fear and astonishment.

"Tell the main unit commanders to meet with me in my quarters Brigadefuhrer. We musn't let this insult that has been dealt to the Reich go unpunished, indeed we shall make them pay more dearly than they ever could imagine for this defiance!" the Major declared happily.

A few hours later, all the unit commanders had indeed assembled, Regular Army, SS, SS auxiliaries, Gestapo, SD and even normal Polish Police. Johan, Friedrich and Weiss had stood to attention behind the Major, the officers were wearing peaked caps and Weiss was wearing a Wapo cap, again. The others were staring at them astonished and angered by what had happened, what they had done. They had not understood and Johan felt vindicated seeing their confusion, the intensity and inexplicable expression of astonishment of their faces.

"Gentlemen, you have humiliated us with your stupidity and your lack of empathy" the Major declared. He was sat behind a desk, his Feldgrau gloved hands meshing together, alternatively resting on the desk or up in the air, supported by his elbows. Johan hoped that all of them who had glasses were presenting blank discs to the observers. "You have failed to consider that when you push people too far that they will fight back."

"But they cannot be…" protested the Gestapo chief.

"Silence" the Major said calmly and affably, yet with a threatening edge "the very sight of you annoys me, if you protest and cannot understand why this needs to be done with the utmost care, I'm sure Untersturmfuhrer von Gentz" at this Johan smiled viciously "can do your job far better than you. Do not forget who has the orders from the Fuhrer here."

The other man, an SS Oberfuhrer, was infuriated but said nothing. The Major went on "Fortunately your stupidity, the way we have treated these people, and now your recklessness in presenting such easy targets for the Jews, will now work to our advantage" his head came up slightly "if you follow my orders as I lay them out, without question, immediately, failure to carry them out as I wish will see the commanding officer of the failing unit made example of."

The Major then proceeded to lay out his plan of attack, and it was typical of the Major, incomprehensibly evil, yet wonderfully dastardly at the same time.

The following day, at 0:900 am a long column of Feldgrau figures, this time from the SS Panzergrenadiers that had not been committed came through the Main gate to the Ghetto. They were marching loudly, led by the Major, with a cruel and mischievous smile on his face. All of the SS men were armed, yet scared seeing the rotting corpses of the Ukrainians and Einsatztruppen from the day before. "Singen Sie!" the Major had commanded. The entire column, himself included had started singing "Die fahne hoche, die Reihen fest geschlossen" and so on.

Simultaneously, two minutes earlier Friedrich had led a platoon of Regular Army soldiers through an alternative entrance near the Brush factory. He had briefed them before "Right men, I know some of you may not trust me because I wear the hagenkreuz instead of the imperial flag on my helmet, but I want you all to put those feelings aside and know I am not a fanatic. I will not demand you throw yourselves against an unrealistic goal or that you rush into the gunfire. I'm not like that and I trust in your professionalism." As was always the case with Friedrich he said it so earnestly and was clearly not a prideful, arrogant man naturally, but a more humble one, so most who heard this trusted him. "I want the MG34 covering our entry in good cover. Covering squad watch the windows, carefully and shoot if you see anything that looks suspicious, make no mistake they'll be watching, the rest of us, the first squad will enter the Ghetto with me, move quickly and get into cover. If you see something moves, shoot it, if it screams, shoot it again. Once in cover, the men with the panzerfausts need to be dead on target, if not we're all dead!"

They had done exactly as he had commanded. When they were in cover, a Feldwebel next to Friedrich had tapped him on the shoulder and said "Herr Obersturmfuhrer, they've booby trapped this area. I'm not sure if we're on top of something mined or not."

Friedrich had actually not noticed, he had been more focused on getting in cover and not being shot. He had smiled "Let's hope we're lucky and that your men are good shots Feldwebel, be prepared to rush those doors, get ready." All the men in the first squad had been armed with MP-40s so they could storm in quickly and guns blazing. Friedrich had looked behind him to see the three men he had not seen get into position, get up and fire. There were three explosions simultaneously which had blown open three doors, deafening Friedrich and producing screams from within the buildings. Even though he had been deafened, Friedrich had leaped up and rushing forward shouting "Angriff! Angriff! Angriff! Sie alle Töten!" Friedrich had burst into the door in the building nearest to him, to see three emaciated figures recovering from the blast and he had gunned them down. Another one, it looked like a small child had come round the corner with a Molotov cocktail and had pulled its arm back to throw it when Friedrich, aiming down the sights, had fired, breaking the bottle open and spilling the fire over the child. Its screams had been female and Friedrich had laughed with glee as she had burned, he had moved on, two soldiers right behind him.

In their confusion and disoriented the Jews had detonated their booby traps even though there were no Germans left in the killing area. They had also begun breaking windows, revealing their positions, firing at the last Feldgrau figures they could see, revealing their positions and they had been gunned down by the covering squad.

The explosions had been the cue for the Major and his men, and they had stopped singing, breaking into cover and dashing forward, throwing grenades to blow open doors. Here although more Germans had been killed or wounded, it was far fewer than would later be made out in books and films. At most two had been killed in the charge. When Jews would fire, they revealed their positions and were either shot by the SS Panzergrenadiers in the streets, or by the sharpshooters in the buildings beyond the gate. Through these two breaches, over a thousand German soldiers poured into the Ghetto and began fighting and killing scores, nay hundreds of Jews, from oldest to youngest.

Whenever a nest of Jewish civilians, hidden by the fighters from the fighting would be discovered, grenades would be thrown into the cowering masses, turning the basements of most buildings into the Ghetto into abattoirs. Any individuals like this seen by themselves were shot. The SS Panzergrenadiers under the Major and the Regular Army soldiers under Friedrich had fought aggressively, yet carefully. They would rush forward, yet were not blind and covered every corner with their weapons, diving into cover and shooting at anything that wasn't wearing Feldgrau.

After only four hours, when resupply of water and ammo, as well as exhaustion became an issue, the Major issued the order for the attack to halt. Reinforcements and resupply came in quickly. Just as the Major had predicted there was a counterattack at nightfall. In it the Jews would come forward, sometimes more tenaciously than the SS and Army men were ready for and they would die. At other times they were prepared and the Jews were simply gunned down. Friedrich had found himself directing the fire safely in the rear and had never been worried or even had to shoot anyone. However the Major had been checking in on some forward positions and occasionally had to join in the fighting. He had said later that Jews would look in astonishment at the short, blond haired, pudgy, smiling SS officer who was so out of place and that was all the time he ever needed to kill them.

That day, from civilians and resistance killed the official tally came to 504 resistance fighters killed, and 9,000 civilians killed. No one had been spared, which is why the Jewish body count was so high. On the other side there were 24 German dead and 64 wounded. The Germans had fought cunningly. It had been a bloody day. The Major had briefed the troops "Anyone who does not fight as if they were fighting the Russians in this battle, anyone who does not show respect for the enemy, anyone who acts recklessly, anyone who regards Jewish people as an inferior race instead of as a faith group composed of ethnically diverse individuals who are our equals, deserves to die, and is not worthy of wearing that uniform. Should you behave like you have towards the Jews before this day, if you die, you will be doing a service to the German race by making sure that idiocy is weeded out of it. Survive and show me that you are not idiots, send them screaming to hell. Let the last thing they feel be German lead!"

The next day was more of the same, but it had also been the day that the back of the resistance had been broken. The Jews had been slightly more careful, but clearly still shocked and unprepared. Another 25 Germans were killed and 100 wounded, but 10,000 Jews, resistance and non-resistance had been killed by the 3,000 men the Major had pouring into the Ghetto from behind the protection of the two areas that had been captured the day before. Exactly as the Major had predicted the Jews could not put up a sustained fight. They had expended almost all their ammunition and had lost their best weapons in a serious fight they could not afford. From then on Johan had taken a much more active role in fighting.

He, had been in charge of policing the streets. Since food had been cut off, as had the water supply, Johan was the one who set up mobile field bakeries and the cans of water to be brought about to entice people to surrender. Better yet, when resistance fighters came out to get the water and bread they would rapidly be shot down. When it was unarmed civilians, they were allowed to eat and take as much as they wanted, that is before they were marched out of the ghetto to their deaths. All around Johan there had been another month of clearing actions, and Stroop got his now infamous photograph. That had been that. It had been pathetic really.

As the Major had said "We have seen them so badly for so long and seemed so unable to treat them as humans, with respect. Indeed so many of us were unable, until recently. For them of course, it was inconceivable that we could change so quickly and in doing so rob them of their chance at revenge. We robbed them, instead so many of them died having not even been able to so much as touch with their bullets, or otherwise a single German soldier. Ah, it was wonderful to hear the anguished cries of rage and despair as they saw their faith, their God, their lives and their chance at happiness, their happiness through their revenge leaved them. The cries of unfathomable despair as they realized that truly" he had chuckled "we had taken every from them! Oh how it shall always start my heart and give me jitters!"

Johan looked up at the disbelieving face of Esther "You people, you see didn't have guns, didn't have ammunition, and all we had to do to convince you to come to us, to come to die, was some bread and water. Truly you people were so cheap" he said in his gentle voice that oozed contempt and lack of sorrow for what he had done. "Yes" he said, nodding at her beautiful, enraged face "I do not pity or regret the people I have marched to their deaths. For the ragged emaciated, stumbling figures wielding rusty knives, that was the Jewish resistance, I don't regret laughing as I shredded their bodies with my well placed bursts of gunfire!"

Now she pressed in the knife so close it penetrated his skin, but he did not bleed. It was not silver so it did not hurt. "You know" she sobbed with rage, about to lose it, about to cut him "our orders are to bring you back alive, but I don't think anyone will miss you, and I will have no regrets if I kill you!"

"Then do it" he said in as seductive a voice as he could manage "I want you to do it, I want it to be you."

"No!" she declared, removing the knife from his throat, the skin already healing "No I won't"

Johan chuckled "You're lying, it is not that you will not, it is that you cannot. You're Jewish, you're weak!" he spat. She stared astonished and angered at his lack of fear or sense of self preservation, not understanding that he really did not want to live, he wanted to be killed. "Or" he said suddenly returning to his soothing voice "maybe it's not because your Jewish," he closed his eyes and opened them, he smiled at her, "maybe it's because you're a woman?"

"What?" she asked angrily.

He laughed "Oh don't act like that, I can see it the way you look at me. If you won't kill me, will you at least kiss me?" he asked in a voice that was both seductive and pleading. He was showing her some of his vulnerability, toying with her emotions. He saw the look on her face he wanted to see, for a moment she was angered, the next she came towards him a bit as if she were going to do it. He was a soulless killer and yet he was still a man who liked and was flattered by the attention she had shown him. He was also someone who was actually, he hinted at with his pleading tone, someone who wanted human contact and warmth, who was actually empty because of what he had done. In other words _he needed her_. He could see that she sensed this and was tempted by the offer and the power she held over him.

"No!" she said frigidly, backing away.

"Is that so?" he asked amusedly "what do you really want? Are you thinking that it would be unprofessional?"

She left him so that she wouldn't have to answer and Johan had cackled insanely.

Johan had not had to wait long before the two men came back and it had been while Esther had been feeding him. They had both watched. Johan had looked over at them occasionally but had not been able to contain his smile, a competitive smile. They had watched resentfully as Johan looked at Esther, with a mischievous, smug smirk on his face. Even though she would remain impassive or glare at him, when some soup would dribble down his chin she would wipe it away so gently and when she would look into his eyes a warm smile would creep onto her beautiful face, only to fade the next moment. Worst of all had been her asking "Are you ready?" Johan was not being a prisoner but setting the terms, with her, of when he was fed.

It enraged them and they came for him when he was sleeping. He felt the hard kick to his stomach waking him from his sleep, on his third day in captivity. When he was a human it would have broken his ribs but he paid it no heed now that he was a vampire, instead it angered him, but mostly because he might have to break cover before things went as he wanted. "You!" the big, ugly inbred one, said furiously, lifting Johan up through his sheer strength and slamming into the wall "how dare you do that to her!" He slammed him again and Johan acted shocked and disoriented, even though he was actually annoyed and his head hurt. He felt something terrible in the left arm and a heard a sharp crack as a baseball bat came down on his left side from the other side from the Mediterranean one. He screamed but in such a way as to sound like someone in pain who needed help. He was thrown to the floor and he banged his head against the wall, and the skin split, and some blood came out. Even though the wound nearly instantly healed itself he was so enraged his eyes glowed red but a heavy, huge leg slammed itself against the base of his spine and this time it really did hurt.

It felt like that time he had been shot by his own side in Warsaw. His eyes glowed red. One of his fondest memories was when he had gotten his revenge on those men, the night he had been set loose. He had run and leapt across the roofs at speeds that he had never even seen accomplished with an automobile. He had been amazed at his own agility, the places he had been able to leap into, the precise physical movements at just the correct moment, that he would never have before thought possible. He had run around the devastation, the burning city. Truly at last he had been a chained dog let loose. For once he had not been wearing a helmet in a combat zone and wore a peaked cap as he would have always liked, no longer did he have to fear snipers. All through the night he searched until he found them. Smoking, being disorderly, not even having sentries set up. There had been fifty of them, all Dirlewanger and Azeri SS, no Germans around. Even though they were nominally on his side he hadn't cared.

He had watched them on the roof. He made sure his pistol was ready, his grenades primed and his schmeisser loaded. Then smiling insanely, eyes glowing red, he had leapt down in the middle of them, landing with his boot on the shoulder of one, his strength and the force of his fall cracking the man's head open, killing him. The rest had gone for their weapons and Johan had turned and looked at all of them. "Look at all of you, killing so casually without regard for the bigger picture, or even appreciating what you're doing in the here and now, no even able to follow regular tactics and discipline. This is not good." They looked at him in bewilderment from what he was saying and fear from his red eyes and sharp teeth. "It's alright" he said, tapping his gorget "That's why I'm here." He threw two grenades more precisely than he had ever been able in his life, just where he wanted them to land, the explosions killing and maiming ten, then he had turned and gunned down another ten in rapid succession, while dodging all the bullets fired at him through a combination of shifting his body and jumping out of the way, in incredible moves that before he would not even have been able to imagine anyone doing. Before he bothered to reload he let his MP-40 drop by his sling so that it hung off his chest and killed eight, with headshots, with his pistol. He had taken cover and then noticed that he had been hit in his arm. He crouched down as the bullets came in and heard the screams of panic from the remaining pretend SS. He looked at his arm and noticed he was not bleeding anymore in fact he could see that the bullet was, oh so gradually being forced out of his flesh, without him willing it to do so.

From his cover he had thrown his remaining grenades to kill more of the pretend SS and killed some more with his reloaded MP-40, stopping when the cocking handle went back into place because the clip was empty. He had then seen three coming up the stairs, he did not have any grenades and no time to reload so he charged them, his eyes red, his teeth bared. He was surprised that when he drove his gloved hand, fingers all clamped together, the move didn't simply crush the throat of the taller Azeri, his strength ripped straight through it, severing the man's head, leaving only a disbelieving look on it as it dropped away and spurted blood on Johan and his two astonished comrades. Johan licked his lips and liked what he tasted. He finished the other two off by violently biting their throats and tasting their blood run hot spurting in great gushes into his mouth. He was surprised that they never fought back. He would later ask the Dok about that.

He then had reloaded and leapt up out spraying the rest as he fell in quick succession, expertly felling the fake SS with headshots, he noticed recoil did not effect him anymore, every bullet was on target, he was able perfectly to adjust for conditions to make the shots accurate and precise. The remaining had turned and run. He had not let them live, he had killed them all, one after another, slowly, painfully, taunting them, squishing their pathetic bodies. In the best case he had found the man whose bullet had crippled him.

The man had been running and Johan had fired his Walther so that the bullet went through his left knee. The man screeched as the bone splintered into all parts of his leg and he fell diving unwillingly into the dust and grime, the blood oozing forth. Johan had stood there and grinned eyes blazing red. "What's wrong, I thought you were so tough get up and fight, get up and run, maybe you'll live through this!" The man had gotten up and begun moving. Johan had followed him for another twenty yards when he took out his right knee as well. "Crawl! Crawl!" Johan had jeered, "you can still make it!" Johan had watched him crawling, bleeding getting weaker. At last he grew bored and jumped up high into the air and his boots came down on the man's shoulders, breaking them with such force that the bone splintered through the skin, muscle and blood vessels and it came gushing forth. The man's last sensation had been Johan lying on top of him, greedily lapping at his blood. It wasn't very good, or at least maybe it wasn't because it came from a male and such a disgusting one at that, not a worthy opponent, not someone who any decent woman would want to keep company with.

Of course neither did that seem to be the case with Johan. In school he had never been liked by any of the girls, they always seemed to go for people who were more like the man whose bullet had turned him into a vampire. In that sense Johan should have been grateful, he relished in his power and what he was able to do, how much more fun and fulfilling war became now that he was a demon. Maybe that's who these men were, they seemed to be. When they had, inevitably, served in what he understood was called the Israeli Defense Force, they had probably ruled because 'they were tough' physically that was and people were intimidated by mass. Something such as that was what had moved the Third Reich, it was disgusting! Men should be in authority because of cerebral virtues, not because of what mass they had or their personal ability to use their body to hurt other men. Men should rule others and be obeyed because of shared goals, through love, through common purpose, through a sense of enriching human life and bringing it up to highest level. The victory of the collective was the victory of the individual, a happier more prosperous collective, one that was virtuous bringing greater capacity for the individual to develop himself. Rule by muscle, nothing so unnatural should be allowed to live!

He growled, as the blows came in, be damned with his cover, he would kill these men, revealing himself and take her, she would squeal in pain and fight him, feeble, useless and pathetic, yes! But he never got there as the next thing he heard as his bonds began to exert himself on his bonds was the sound of footsteps and the cry of "Stop!" from Esther. The men didn't stop but Johan did and the glow in his eyes faded.

"This fucking Nazi is toying with you and he murdered, or was responsible for the murder of hundreds if not thousands of our people in the Ghetto, he has to die!" said the inbred one.

"And he will" she responded "we must get him to Israel where he will be held up before the world before he is killed. But we musn't build sympathy for him by killing or hurting him before we get there." Johan looked up angrily at her and she shot him back her deadly glare "he doesn't deserve it, he only deserves people to be cheering his death, screaming for his blood and for him to wonder if anyone in this world loves him or cares that he is about to die, squirming like a worm as the breath and life runs out of him!" It was said with such hatred, with such a complete lack of, empathy or compassion that Johan actually began to cry.

Although he knew he could always avoid such a fate, he was haunted by such a thing possibly happening to him, dying alone, with people cheering as he died. It also devastated him to think that maybe in Esther's eyes had not been fascination, a desire to know him, but merely incomprehension as to his malice, and possibly disgust at his very presence and her being gentle was just professional. Also that a woman like him should find him physically repulsive was devastating. That also meant that his confidence in his powers as a vampire had been completely misplaced and that all he really could do was kill. Suddenly, he felt as weak as a human, and his sudden attempt to break his bonds was feeble and impossible. He cried from despair, sobbing through the mouth gag. The two men spat on him and left him. He looked up at Esther who looked down at him imperiously, smiling cruelly at his discomfort, the same way he had probably looked when he had done it to countless victims. Suddenly he was confronted with what made his hands twitch, and his body to start shaking, he was truly horrible, he cried anew with despair and through his mouth gag begged her not leave him like this. She snorted with contempt at him and left. He lay there, crying himself to sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

Johan had woken up to the sound of the men talking with Esther. He felt like breaking free and killing them all, but her words to him the night before had broken him, he had remembered feeling like this countless times before he met the Major, he had been able to largely deal with them after meeting him. The Major had saved him, had shown him happiness, and even when it looked as though he might be a cripple, his very lack of success with women had been able to grant him, another, better chance at life. Now Esther's words had made it clear that the rest of the world could only hate him for what he was, that it would never forgive him and that he was loved by nobody. The sun was breaking through as the Mediterranean man said "We don't know when we'll be back. I don't think you'll have any troube with him given how he cried like a little baby last night, I think you've broken his will, you sure showed him." Then the door closed and they were alone.

Esther went into the kitchen to do something while Johan lay down inert and thought, and wished his hands were undone, wished he had the strength, but even though he was a vampire he didn't. Vampires…the Battalion! The Major! Friedrich! They were all looking for him, they must be! Oh how selfish he had been, doing what he had been busy at! Of course, the Battalion! Yes, they were all condemned to death, they were going to die. They could never have gone back into society vampires or not. All of them would have been hunted, killed, looking over their shoulders, living maybe with families they had no true love for, and mouthing platitudes about how guilty they felt.

Well yes, actually, they all felt guilty, probably even the Major. Enormous, unbearable guilt for everyone they had killed, but no one, ever, would forgive them, embrace them, even if they had all sought it. They were condemned to death, but they weren't going quietly. Not like all those Jews who meekly shuffled into the gas chambers, and could only beg for their lives, not fight for them. Johan wanted to go to war again, with his comrades, in his old uniform, one last time. He wanted to rush along the battlefield, massacring all, Military and Civilian, from oldest to youngest. He wanted to destroy priceless treasures, take away everything from thousands, watch them cry and beg. He wanted to feel the bullets feebly unable to stop his new body, then for silver bullets to tear him to pieces. He wanted to die as an artillery shell vaporized him! He wanted it to be sudden, he wanted it to be in a glorious blaze, and for it to be brutal, he deserved nothing less. He would rape her and devour her alive, then he would rejoin his comrades, so that at last he could go to hell and burn for all eternity!

He felt his strength coming back.

He was interrupted by Esther coming from the kitchen, he saw her jeans before anything else, and her stockingless feet in her shoes. She set something sounding like porcelain down and then grabbed his shoulders, there was the same gentle touch, but it meant nothing and again Johan felt his strength leave him as she hoisted him upright. It was just professional, like a longshoreman might handle China, no real care for the object, she just didn't want to get in trouble for damaging the package. She removed his gag. She scooped up what looked like oatmeal in a spoon and shoved it toward him. He shook his head. She tried again, her face impassive, full of contempt, he accepted it, then spat it back in her face, splattering her. She made a small noise of disgust. "Hure!" he swore at her "how dare you toy with me like that, or anyone, how dare you even exist!"

She slapped him hard across the face with a loud yell. "The same way you've been toying with me? Why can't I do it back to you? Why can't I make you despair and cry and make you feel worthless?" she hissed.

Johan was initially lost for an answer. She had a good point, he was sounding like those SS men that they had had to lecture about how Jews were people. Indeed he had been toying with her without expecting her to do something similar to him, how foolish of him to think like that. But no, this was different. He was afraid his real answer would make him sound weak, but, perhaps that was better than leaving her with the impression she was morally superior. He looked at her and glared "I never hated you, even though you stabbed me, which really hurt, or have slapped me. I enjoyed toying with you because you were beautiful to me, your once beautiful face made it worthwhile to hurt you that way, to make your emotions conflict and to be repulsed by me. I've had higher regard for you, as a person, than for either of your two colleagues. I thought you were genuinely considerate, maybe" he looked down ashamed at his foolishness "maybe you liked me, maybe you did have feelings for me, but I see right through you now. I see the same stupid sense of superiority that we used to justify burning an entire continent to the ground. Because of what you have suffered it makes anything you do justifiable for all eternity, it gives you license forever more, you don't have that and neither did we. Yes I see through you Esther because I see me."

He saw, with interest, the old pained expression return to her face "Do you now? Because I see right through you, I know I do. The fact that you cried instead of laughed at what I said, shows you what you really are, despite your story, which I don't even know if I believe! You may claim to be different, but you're just like any other Nazi! You're a sad, scared, heartless, horrid, evil little man Johan von Gentz and I meant every word I said, I hope you die, I hope you die horribly! I hope you die on fire!" She was now in tears of rage and she threw the bowl towards his head, he dodged it as it shattered against the wall and the goop dripped down to his left.

"It's not fair!" she continued her face livid, looking at him disgusted by his existence. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him while he smirked at her "how is it that all my family died, they died in the Uprising, but you, you animal! You survived? Why? You don't deserve to live! For all I know you killed my parents, my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles." She pounded her chest and wailed, her spit flying in his face "I'm all that's left, and you are still living, you are still alive, when you don't deserve it and how is it that you still look young? Why do you look like that, like the day you might have killed my parents? You look as though you haven't aged a day, but you're not dead? Yet you get eternal youth?"

Johan realized he had the upper hand again. "Esther?" he asked in his gentle, soothing voice again. "Look at me, calm down and look at me" he said. She stopped and wiped away her tears. "You said I was an animal, you said I should be dead, you said I look as though I haven't aged a day?" she nodded. He now smiled for the first time and showed her _his_ teeth "What makes you think I'm even human at all?" She looked at him curiously, yet with alarm. He chuckled again at her discomfort. She could looked at his teeth and at him. Suddenly she backed away.

"Oh God!" she said "Oh God!" she backed away more. "W…what are you? What?" he began chuckling and his smile deepened, he proudly showed off his predator's teeth. "Answer me…you…you…what are you?" she demanded in fear and trepidation.

"Come closer Esther" he said soothingly and seductively, he kept his feral grin, but his eyes were drawing her in "don't go away from me, I want to talk to you." She began edging closer, even though she drew the knife, the one she had stabbed him with, it was silver, it was dangerous.

"It…" she started, she was stuttering. "It all makes sense now, the Vatican, all these weapons, all these things they gave and told us, forcefully to use on you. It now makes sense. We didn't believe all of it, we didn't want to offend them too much, so we used some of it, but you…you…"

"Oh Esther" he said gently shaking his head "I was a monster long before the Ghetto Uprising. Everyone who kills and enjoys it, like me is already a monster. I simply became more true to myself. You're right I am a monster and I revel in it, I love being one. Being a" he paused then he eyes glowed red and his leer became intense as she yelped in fright "vampire is beyond anything you will ever know!"

She raised her knife, his eyes kept their red glow "Don't worry, I don't want to hurt you, despite what you said" he paused "too badly" he added. She readied the knife but she was shaking in fear. He felt strong again, even if, and he was always proud of this, his fairly meager body did not suggest strength. "I'll rape you and show you what it's like to be bitten, if you submit quietly, maybe I'll let you live!" It was calculated to be a brutal message, bringing up memories of the Holocaust.

Enraged and terrified, she lifted the knife and came screaming after him. He smiled the cruel and insane smile everyone had in the Battalion, but the Major most of all. He broke free of his bonds at last, using his strength in an instant. He quickly dodged her attack and he loved seeing the look panic and terror on her face. She was sure she was dead. He stood up, still wearing the smile. "Give up" his eyes glowed red again "human. Make it easy on yourself, idiot, maybe, maybe I'll show mercy." She attacked at him again, she may have been an expert but she was not a vampire hunter. He dodged again by jumping onto the opposite wall and hanging off of it, like some bat. The glow in his eyes faded and he chuckled. She spun round, this time on the defensive. He dropped down "Relax, I meant what I said. I don't want to hurt you, not badly anyway." He came toward her slowly, he noted she was a bit taller than he was.

"Stay back, I'll kill you, you murderer!" she screamed

"Kiss me, maybe I won't bite!" he dared. She screamed and lunged toward him, he was too quick and dodged again. She lunged desperately after him but he eluded her. His red eyes looked into hers. He stretched out his arm, "give me the knife Esther or drop it, and maybe I'll make it quick. Maybe I'll show more mercy to you than all the other Jews, then again I never was very good at keeping promises." She stabbed out the knife quickly, but he easily dodged it, his insane smile deepened. "Come embrace this murderer! Embrace your killer! Embrace the thing that's going to eat you alive!" Desperate she ran at him again, he tripped her up and the knife went skidding, but she was a lot closer to it then he was as she went skidding with it. He lunged after it and they both came next to each other. However she had the knife, he grabbed her wrist, as she used his grip to pivot on top of him, the blade against the skin of his wrist. His right hand was against her left shoulder, and her left hand had put itself against his right shoulder. She struggled with all her might, against his incomprehensibly superior strength.

"The worst part!" she hissed at him, as he kept his insane smile and red eyes "is that I found it hard to only hate you, I actually enjoyed your company! I actually fantasized about going to bed with you! With a Nazi!"

The glow from his eyes faded. He had to focus to keep her from coming down and stabbing her, nobody had ever said anything like that to him. He still managed to keep his smug voice. "Really? Then why don't you?" he asked, again in his soothingly voice, his cruel and insane smile replaced with a smirk.

"Why don't I…" she quivered with anger at his question, but she had said it.

"Why?" he asked "Why did you find my presence bearable? In every possible sense of the word I'm a monster. You have every reason in the world to hate me, why not hate me every waking?"

She started very surely, but gradually faltered "I hate you! I hate you! I want to slaughter you! But...I..." she was angry in conflict with herself. Johan saw her hold on the blade weaken "you're good looking" she admitted in shame "and male." The words were like lead and she dropped the blade, Johan's survival instinct meant he winced and gagged as the blade clattered not an inch from his head. She snorted at his discomfort, but also smiled softly, at the admission of her own weakness. Suddenly she collapsed, gently, onto him. She said something in Hebrew, then she went back to German "oh you were right", she began sobbing into his filthy shirt, her hand drooped in his grip and he released her, their arms flopped to their sides. "You were right, I and others like me are weak, I can't even kill you, even though you might have killed my parents, even though you killed many of my people and enjoyed it, even though you just threatened to rape then eat me. I can't kill you and I can't stay mad enough at you to be able to kill you, even though I hate you, more than you'll ever know!" It wasn't pathetic in the sense of her sobbing, it was more a disbelieving and honest admission of something she had not been comfortable with, she didn't dare cry as he had the last night.

She looked into eyes, and suddenly Johan felt vulnerable, he felt…like he needed to comfort her. No longer did he have an insane smile, nor did his eyes glow red, he looked at her, unsure what to do. "You're a monster, biologically and psychologically. Still, you're so weak, even compared to me, yet you're a killer. You slaughtered people with glee and are terrified of dying alone. I should want to kill you, you're so pathetic, Johan von Gentz, but I can't. That just makes me worse, it makes me just like you said."

He didn't do a thing, he wasn't sure what to do. She put her right index finger on his bottom left fang, she winced slightly at how sharp it was, he could smell her blood. She began slowly, while wearing a saddened, defeated look on her face, running the tip of her finger cautiously over his teeth. "What's wrong?" she asked. Johan realized he was blushing and it embarrassed him. She explored his teeth, then withdrew her finger after she was done. "What wrong?" she asked again.

He had never meant to show her this side of him, even though it might mean that this all could end well. "Well, it's just…I…I've never had this happen to me before."

"What do you mean?" she inquired quizzically.

"Well…I…I was a virgin when I was turned into a vampire. I've never even…uh" he looked away from her in embarrassment, "kissed a girl, a woman, ever." She laughed at him derisively. "Hey!" he said whiningly.

"You really expect me to believe that vampire?" she asked.

"Some may have raped their way across Europe, that kind of thing never interested me" he admitted with a mixture of embarrassment at his inexperience and pride at what passed for his integrity. He looked away again.

Then he felt her hands grab both sides of his face and turn it to face her. She looked at him, a slight smile on her face then kissed him on the lips. It wasn't gentle, there was definite anger, malice and, yes hatred in it, but there was also passion and the release of emotional repression in it. He made a noise of surprise, but soon went into it, it felt so…natural and good. God, how warm she was against his cold skin, it felt so good, one her hands left his face and caressed his back, suddenly she was sitting on top of him and he was sitting up. He was shocked when her hot tongue flitted ostentatiously into his cold mouth, past his teeth, exploring him, he resisted the urge to bite, he didn't want to ruin this. After a while she released him and he found himself unable to look at her, blushing. "Thank you, that…that was…nice."

"Hmmm" she said, her hand moving gently across his left shoulder "your breath tastes like honey and mint, even if you have those teeth and are so cold. Maybe you just need someone to warm you up?" she said suggestively, cocking an eyebrow at him. "I notice you've become happy to see me" she noted. Johan felt himself blushing more intensely and his cheeks became colder, he was embarrassed that even though he was a vampire, he couldn't fully control instinct.

"Let's get you out of those filthy clothes" she said. "You've soiled me so I may just have to join you." She was getting aggressive and suddenly Johan was uncomfortable.

So it wasn't fake when he said in an uneasy voice "Please take it easy on me, it's my first time remember?"

"Shut up!" she said and she kissed him again as she started undoing his shirt.

"You'll forgive me if I don't go into details" Johan said to Friedrich.

"I would have been most disappointed in you if you had" responded Friedrich blandly. Friedrich watched Johan, his face passive and uninterested, the love interested him little, what did interest him had been Johan's thoughts before his woman had showed up. This had interested him intensely, because he believed he was beginning to draw together everything that was the Millennium Battalion. His reason for being, or more precisely, seeming impassive was that he had uncomfortable news to tell Johan. "So did you end up biting her?" he asked.

"Oh yes" responded Johan, he leant back against the wall. Johan was sitting on his bed and Friedrich in a folding chair. Johan's eyes looked dreamy "It was at the second time, I waited until her blood was pumping the fastest it could be, just before the moment when I bit her, hmmm" he said, seeming to remember the taste, the sensation of hot blood running into his mouth.

Friedrich was now even less amused, for him when he had done that, he had been murdering someone, when Johan had done it, it had been an erotic, fulfilling, loving, unique experience. It made him jealous and also confused, for why did he, the one who seemed to be the more guilt ridden, manage instead to be the brutal killer vampire that would make children hide under their sheets, and Johan the vampire lover? "Did she like it?" he asked, not hinting at his feelings over the whole thing.

"Yes" Johan responded, still dreamy eyed "I didn't take too much, but enough, the best part was her pulling me closer in while I fed off of her. Afterward I gave her a nice growl, I figured she'd like that, then I explained to her why. Apparently when you bite someone of the opposite gender as a vampire, before you do you release pheromones that freeze the other in place, that and as you know we return to when we were most attractive. Also I suspect, as long as its done a certain way and we're not hideous they want to found out what its like. Anyway, when we bite down we release several things into their blood stream through our saliva, one is blood thinner so that they bleed faster, another is a muscle relaxant so that they cannot resistant, we also put in pain killers so that it doesn't really hurt and finally some form of antibody so the wound doesn't become infected. When we release we release some form of clotting agent which closes up the wound."

"Why did she let you leave? Why didn't she try and kill you, why wasn't she afraid of dying?" asked Friedrich coldly.

"I think she trusted me by that point and didn't want to see me hurt, I also said that if she ever wanted to come with me, she could. Would we have turned her?" he asked Friedrich.

Friedrich shrugged "It is possible we might have. You do realize of course, or rather remember that this was an attempt by the Vatican to find out more about the Battalion so that they could come and destroy us?"

Johan nodded in shame, remembering the heavy dressing down he had received from Friedrich, Blitz, the Dok, the Major and everyone else on base for his recklessness. "Yes her two colleagues were murdered by Anderson at the Airstrip when they attempted to negotiate going onto the plane, instead of just trusting the Vatican. To this day I wonder if she made it out."

"She didn't" said Friedrich more heartlessly than he had intended. Johan looked up at him suddenly, but without betraying anything, and as a vampire, Friedrich could sense a lot more than a normal human.

"I knew it, but I didn't want to admit it, given what her colleagues said to her and what you told me, but risking a conflict with Mossad?" He looked down and asked "What did they do to her?"

Friedrich sighed uncomfortably "They saw she had been bitten and she was carved up, literally, her organs were left spewed across the floor, and her limbs were nailed into place by daggers on one of the walls into a shape of the cross, with" he gulped as he registered how lucky he had been not to fight Anderson "her head in the middle, both her eyes were gouged out by knives."

Johan's previous pride went all out of him, and Friedrich could see an emptiness come into him, where once there had been something, it looked as though Johan would not be able to do something he had done before. Dream pleasantly perhaps? He even began crying. "I know I should not care and laugh at the way she was killed, but I can't. Even though I've brutally killed scores, if not hundreds and enjoyed it, and I did similar things to those Dirlewanger men, I…" he looked at Friedrich and Friedrich looked into his eyes, bland, uninterested, hiding his own feelings. Johan resumed "I can't imagine what _thing_ would do that to her, I want to rip apart the people who did that to her." His eyes were trickling tears but his voice did not change he did not break "Does that make me a hypocrite?"

Friedrich stood up and went to the door, before opening it he said, without looking at Johan "No, it means you're still human." He opened the door and shut it behind him, leaving Johan to absorb the news while he tried to figure his own life out, and that had been very difficult since January 1933.

As for Johan finally knowing the truth brought him back to what she had been saying to him just before they had made love. She stopped at about halfway down at unbuttoning his shirt and kissed him again, having embraced her for the second time Johan noted she was physically stronger than him, at least she would have been had he been a human. "You" she said pulling out "I always knew you wanted something like this, for me to come to you. I could tell by the way you ate the soup I gave you. Always looking with that gleam in your eyes, instead of the glower you gave the two men, that sad imploring face." He began undoing her shirt. She gently put her hands on his, how warm she was, how full of life, of blood and energy. She shook her head.

"Why?" he asked somewhat uncertainly.

"There's going to be an after Untersturmfuhrer, rip it, that way I can say it was against my will."

He hesitated before doing it. She looked like she was about to ask a question so he cut her off "Did you mean what you said that you fantasized before this. That is about going to bed with me?" He was somewhat ashamed at how weak and uncertain he sounded, even though he was sterile from her perspective, doing something that was evocative of human warmth, trust and other things he found hard to imagine was very different from war, which is what he was good at.

She laughed and shook her head, causing her silky black hair to come out on either side of her face, she was so beautiful and lest he forget Jewish, what could she want with something like him? He was in fact a monster, he had confessed to enjoying killing people, murdering people. It wasn't that he regretted it, he didn't, he wanted to do it again, it was just... Her speaking interupted him "I told you, you're handsome and the way it was clear to me you wanted me to come to you, shows you care about what I think, about how I feel, you want me to enjoy it, some men just aren't like that. Some men really just look at women, I know, and think that if they're willing to have sex with them, that they're objects of contempt. Not you and the fact that you are an SS officer makes it even better."

She made for his shirt again, but he stopped her "It's...I still don't understand, I mean after all I said and did, I expected you to hate me, no, I want you to hate me. Why not your two male colleagues?"

She gently cupped the left side of his head with her right hand and looked into his eyes "I do hate you, for what you've done. I won't go easy on you, but you're more attractive than either of those two, besides, one has a girlfriend at home, the other" she giggled "he's jealous, I think he can tell there's some connection between us and he doesn't like it."

Johan smiled and tore off her shirt, he was now on top of her, her legs shot out and she wrapped them around him, remaining in control of her situation. Even though he had far greater strength, this wasn't war, he wasn't sure what to do. She still had an undershirt and bra on, almost breathlessly he asked "what did you think about? I mean when you thought about me and when?"

"Always when I was off duty, when I was with you, I was repulsed by your very existence, and I figured you looked so young because of plastic surgery, I'm actually a little relieved to learn you're a vampire. Even though I didn't know I had a good enough look at your face, at first I was disgusted by it because I thought you had cut yourself to look like that, but as I looked more I realized it was natural, it didn't look at all fake, there were no scars or lines. I thought, usually about us being alone like this, you escaping, maybe overpowering me and then I gain the upperhand. Sometimes I would think about going to you, even before you said it and kissing you, telling you how I felt, but why do you need to know this?"

Johan's paranoia returned and suddenly he wanted out, "please don't kill me" he pleaded his voice full of fear.

For once, Esther looked worried "Why?"

"I know what this is" said Johan breathlessly, he was terrified all of a sudden, this had to a trap! "you'll get that knife over there and cut off my head or stab me through the heart and the last thing I hear will be your enraged cry as you slaughter me or a heartless..."

She put a finger over his mouth "I don't want to kill you, I want to hurt you yes, but I don't want to kill you. I'll admit, I liked it when I stabbed you and watched you scream in pain, it felt nice to hurt a Nazi and I want to hurt you some more, but I don't want to kill you."

Johan shook his head "I don't believe you" he said he began to pull away. She put her hands through the opening his shirt and asked "Do you want to kill just because you want to feed off my neck?"

"No" he said. He was about to continue but she spoke first.

"Then you have nothing to fear, I want this to happen."

"Something like me can never be loved."

"You're right, but I still want this to happen."


	19. Chapter 19

A month passed. Life went on as normal, including Friedrich having to restrain himself from shooting Schrodinger on one of his watches yet again. There were more luncheons. There were no further encounters with Blitz, Friedrich still shivered when he saw the Hauptsturmfuhrer. Zeitzler was busy at ever fretting over assets, no matter how many times he was told that the store was nigh inexhaustible and it would all be irrelevant anyway.

December came and time for the yuletide festivities, loads of people being eaten alive. They had to be disposed of and were so wretched it was only natural, but Friedrich was the only 'vegetarian' on this base. He had before revealed his disgust, and everyone knew of it. Surprisingly they were always understanding, even when he screamed at them. "It's not as if we like being cannibals, it's to get at the blood, not because we want their flesh" was one explanation. This hadn't happened yet but the 'food and drink' had arrived and it was only three days away.

As always the Hauptsturmfuhrer would preside over these disgusting sessions, with the Major often watching in amusement, sometimes whilst eating his own meal. How the Major could eat and watch what amounted to cannibalism was beyond Friedrich. It also puzzled him knowing that Johan had had a woman, a human at that, and he had eaten women before and since then, and seemed to be able to separate the two. Was he alone then? Was he truly upstanding and moral, or was it all pretence? Was it that the rest actually were, as they hinted, somewhat bothered by it, but as with killing during the war, they had all decided to enjoy rather than let it destroy them from within? He could not answer these questions and every time the New Year came he wondered about how firm his commitment truly was. He would always think about Anna and his brutal murder of her. Now even worse he had the full details of Johan's story and the contrast.

Johan, Friedrich had noticed, took some time to recover from learning his woman had been killed and in that way. "The Vatican blamed it on us I assume?" he asked Friedrich four days after Friedrich had told him the hidden truth. He was referring to the deaths of the Mossad agents and the way they were killed. Since Zeitzler had been present it was he who had responded.

"Of course they did, they did not reveal, we hope, exactly what we were, but undoubtedly they blamed it on us." Suddenly Zeitzler, not Johan or Friedrich had become angry, quivering with it in fact "Those fucking hypocrites!" he swore, his language surprising everyone "They are the worst! They helped us hunt down Jews throughout every corner of Europe and then they use the Jewish state, a theocratic enemy of theirs, to try and bury one their mistakes and evidence of their sins! They call themselves men of God…" Zeitzler choked on that word, he was a vampire "and yet they have broken every commandment, and their only defense is that they are men? Schweine-trick!"

Both Friedrich and Johan were taken aback by Zeitzler's outburst. They had almost always seen him get upset about money and nothing else. Then Friedrich remembered, Zeitzler had been in the Totenkopfverbande and had committed some of the worst crimes imaginable in death camps throughout the whole of Europe. Zeitzler may have seemed unpresuming, almost harmless in some cases, when in fact he had done terrible things. He was far better than most at containing his guilt. It was so unexpected that Johan and Friedrich had left without another word.

"How can you eat some of those people Johan without thinking of your woman?" Friedrich asked as they walked, nervously. He was afraid that Johan, having not known the truth and Friedrich having been so cold in relating the news at last, would be angry at him.

"Oh, it's simple really" shrugged Johan. "Most of the females brought here are not beautiful. Those that are, often are emaciated, or prostitutes which makes them extremely unattractive, don't you agree?" Even though those people were being eaten alive, Friedrich had to agree. He nodded and Johan went on "She on the other hand was an independent woman, beautiful, athletic, an enemy operative, she wanted to kill me and she had every reason in the world to hate me." No longer did Johan have the happy, dreamy look in his eyes when he spoke about her. Instead he was crying "To have gone to bed with her, to have fed off of her and made it a pleasurable experience for her is a great act of conquest" he was now sobbing and had to wipe away tears "forgive me I cannot go on."

They stopped walking and Friedrich turned to Johan. Somehow he could not stop being cold towards him about this matter. "What is it Johan? Tell me how you've been feeling." It was said without any hint that he cared, it was so perfunctory and unsympathetic, yet Friedrich couldn't help it.

Johan seemed to have the need to unload, because if this registered with him he didn't show it. He leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets and took off his glasses so his tears wouldn't stain them. "It's just…" his face was contorted in anguish and guilt "these past few days, I just can't stop thinking about her. I feel" he said putting his gloved hand on his chest "I killed her when I did that, when I bit her, maybe if I hadn't, they wouldn't have…" he broke down, he sank down to the floor and put his head in his hands. "Oh God" he didn't choke on that word, the only thing he was choking on was his tears "I'm such a selfish idiot. I…I" he sobbed. Friedrich's face had only become more Iron-set and if anything he was gazing with contempt upon this crying man. This man who had helped participate in unspeakable war crimes, along with all the rest of them. This man who had gleefully killed, and laughed as families lost everything. Yes, he had no right to cry like this, none of them did, not even Friedrich. They were all monsters, they could not afford to be hypocrites.

"Snap out of it, good lord man!" admonished Friedrich, his hands bunching into fists "you lose one woman you had one stand with, who you left without a second thought and you're blubbering like a chastised child!"

Now Johan was angry but he did not show it by throwing himself at Friedrich, instead he only became more pitiable "You don't understand!" he screamed "She was the only one, the only person whose ever held me like that, whose ever made me feel so special like, who loved me enough to offer me her neck…to give so much when I gave nothing." He suddenly trailed off, perhaps he did realize his hypocrisy.

"I do understand!" said Friedrich firmly "She made you think that there could have been something else besides the killing, that if someone such as her could love you and do so much for you, you could have had a normal life outside, you could have been forgiven, you could have been loved. You are delusional to think that, much as it is a nice thought." Johan looked up at him sharply and Friedrich went on "What those men did to you shows you what would have happened, no one would have allowed it to last. This is more than some stupid star crossed lovers thing. What we have all done is unforgiveable. She only acted that way towards you, because it was clear from the way you toyed with her that you enjoyed her reactions, cared about what she thought and your crying showed you truly were vulnerable, you were devastated because it was her saying it. She did it because as she admitted you're male." Friedrich looked up at the ceiling "Racism and animosities vanish often between genders, it is a stupid aspect of human life that I wish would be done away with, it unnecessarily complicates things and detracts from the slaughter that has characterized most of human history. Why is it so much more unnatural for a woman to heartlessly or enjoy slaughtering men than it is for men to do the same to each other." He looked back at Johan "Can you answer that one?" he barked.

Johan stuttered "Well, I…it's just…well…I'm a man or was…she was a woman, why would she kill me, it's not…"

"Natural?" Friedrich finished for him. Johan nodded. Friedrich smirked bitterly "You are merely expressing the prevailing sentiment and explaining nothing. My questions remains an unanswered one. Is it because we cannot bear the idea that women, our" he chuckled at such a thought "wives, mothers, sisters and lovers would kill us and enjoy it particularly those Russian" his eyes turned red and he smiled _the _smile "women who probably looked down the scope at a number of us, saw our faces and thought 'hmmm that one is handsome, I'm going to enjoy killing him' as they pulled trigger? Perhaps they felt all nice and warm in special places because that's what women secretly dream of doing to us? Killing us when we're no longer useful to them? After all" now Friedrich was becoming enraged "aren't we just filthy, hairy creatures to be taunted and used and all for an unspoken teasing promise that is never fulfilled? Perhaps even" his bared his teeth and glanced at the wall "simply because they enjoy devastating us and hurting us, simply because they enjoy us watch losing everything over them when they have promised nothing! Do they think us weak simply because we want to please them, that real men rape them, that real men know what they want and take it, without caring? Oh yes how I hate women! Yes! I hate them! I hate them! I hate them! I hate them! There is little more in this world that gives me more pleasure than killing females, of violently tearing apart their bodies and watching them be consumed by fire! We're all so disposable to them, after all they only need a few of us for breeding and I hardly was ever favored well! How delicious it is to hear them scream in pain and look shocked as I with contempt mow them down or crush their stupid little heads beneath my boots!"

Suddenly a vampiric growl issued from his throat, menacing and predatorial. He had never realized he felt that way. Maybe he was in fact homosexual, what else could he be and feel that way?

"Then I suppose I've been a woman all my life!" shouted an enraged Johan standing up and grabbing Friedrich by his collar. "I suppose I must have been a woman when I, gagged and bound, lulled myself to sleep at the thought of raping and killing Esther? I suppose I must have been female when I used her the way I did and left her with nothing? I suppose she was just a great male fool for letting me leave? I suppose she immediately rejected me and didn't make love to me when I said 'good things like this don't happen to men like me'? Oh yes I seem to remember her actually liking that I wasn't a taker, that I was shy, inexperienced!" He released Friedrich and backed away panting, both were. Johan pointed to him "You may not eat people alive Friedrich but you are a complete monster. You're not scared for your soul, you're not really sad for what you've done, you're vindictive, vengeful and petty! You're a perfect Nazi!" Johan stormed off, leaving Friedrich feeling panicked.

Friedrich did not like the idea that he, in many of his attitudes was in any agreement with the Nazis. Friedrich found that idea abhorrent. He was breathing in rapidly, and he clutched at his heart. He looked around him, gasping for air and his pulse racing. He felt like a squirrel, worried about the sudden appearance of a predator. Even though he was supposed to be at the pinnacle of the food chain, except below Alucard, Father Anderson, the Hauptsturmfuhrer, Zorin Blitz, Rip Van Winkle…actually he was still below quite a few people. Even so, as long as he was careful, you could put the entire SAS against him and he could annihilate them all.

Now his day became worse, he heard footsteps and looked to do the expressionless face of Zeitzler, his eyes concealed by the light reflecting off his glasses and just ever so taller than him, Zorin Blitz, with her scythe, smirking at him. "Most amusing" she said. Friedrich looked at her in alarm and backed away. Was this how it would end? Cut down by a psychopath and his corpse harvested for everything of monetary worth? The worst part, not being able to have died on the battlefield, but here, all these years of waiting for nothing, to be wasted in one instant because of a misogynistic outburst.

He was overreacting, Blitz was amused "I liked hearing you say that, I liked for once seeing your killer and not the weak, sniveling coward, who pretended to have a hard expression as he did his work. I liked the one who laughed with me as we stormed heavily entrenched positions at Kursk."

"I honestly hope Frau Obersturmfuhrer" Friedrich was being respectful because Zeitzler was present "that you do not say you like me in any other sense than that of liking a soldier who is effective."

"Of course I don't like you in that way Friedrich, you're still a weakling, and still a coward, because you have regrets, surely you must have learned not to have regrets, never to doubt yourself? Why haven't you learned anything from the war, how the slaughter was delightful and fulfilling, about just what war truly means?"

"We all have different reasons for loving war Frau Obersturmfuhrer" Friedrich responded, standing straight and regaining his composure as the two taller officers reached him. "War is something I was able to use to lose myself in, in many varying senses did I lose myself, for I needed to, I needed to lose myself to survive, again on many levels, that was necessary. However even though I may have delighted in what I did, I had regret for everything because the war was empty for me, the killing accomplished nothing except misery and temporary self-gratification." Blitz smirked and Zeitzler twisted his head a bit to the left "Whereas your inspiration for how war should be fought and what the world should like was Adolf Hitler Frau Obersturmfuhrer, mine were Heinrich von Treitschke and Eduard Bernstein." He paused, Blitz was about to say something when he caught what he was looking for and went "War is meant to be about furthering the ability of mankind to ascend to a higher level, by annihilating the puny individual in the great conception of the State, but this I could never do because the State itself had to be annihilated. War is supposed to bring out greater trust between State and people and among the people themselves. This war did none of that. Instead it served to uplift everything that was wrong, evil and repressed within all of us."

"Excuse me" said Zeitzler uncomfortably and he shuffled off in a hurry.

"You know much of what you said is true about women" Blitz said, without even glancing back at the departing battalion accountant. "What you missed is that what your friend said and what you said are often in the same woman."

"I should have figured you were that twisted an individual Blitz, or rather that you were always more twisted than even I could ever imagine you. Although, you'll have to enlighten me, I'm not quite sure what you are talking about."

"You said we regarded men as expendable, that we enjoyed killing them, that is somewhat true" she smirked "but not always." She looked up at his renewed Iron face. She examined it. Friedrich, knowing his own face, and knowing Blitz, a Wurttemberger, was deciding what kind of face it was. It was a soft, cultured, unpresuming face when he was smiling, but even then it hinted at something sinister, murderous and there was a smug, superior arrogance. It was very Prussian face, undeniably German, but with a slight downturn at the eyes suggesting Mongolian descent, distant, but ever present. It was interesting, if average face. "Can we go to your room Obersturmfuhrer? It is far less crowded there and we will be able to talk in private."

Friedrich felt uncomfortable bringing her to his room, but she had the scythe and he had nothing, he wasn't going to argue. They walked together and Blitz spoke "Well Friedrich I shall begin by telling you something I don't mind enlisted men hearing." She paused and looked up at the ceiling as they walked, Friedrich looked at the taller officer with a stern expression. "My father was probably a good man before the war, he was a better man before 1930, but that year changed a lot of things you know."

Friedrich's parents had been relatively fortunate, they were both officials at the Finance Ministry, bulwarks of the Civil Service and the Establishment and proud Social Democrats. Times had been rough towards the end of his childhood, he had to do without, but food and clothing had never been a problem. "You were lucky" said Blitz, still looking at the ceiling "it is one of the reasons I disliked you from the moment I saw you, from the moment I met you, you were soft you had never known true suffering, you had the capacity to develop yourself as you would have wanted, with parents who loved you and while demanding your best wanted you to be happy." They periodically saluted SS troopers who passed them. "My father was a drunkard and my mother was so patient and so tolerant, submissive even, she let him brutalize me and my brother. He said he would stop once I became strong that if I did he would stop because then I would no longer be a burden on him."

They reached his quarters and Friedrich opened the door and gestured for her to go in "Blitz, your family sounds very similar to the Fuhrer's, your sort were fertile breeding grounds for the Nazis, I'm not surprised, in your households authority was enforced through brutality and threats simply for the sake of the hierarchy" they turned in and Friedrich shut the door behind them. "Why National Socialism, a huge Social Darwinist, anti-Semitic, racist, petty, delusional nothing?" asked Friedrich as he sat down on his own bunk, while Blitz sat in one of his chairs.

"My father was a member of the Stalhelm for a start" Blitz said. "Those politics, the dolchstosslegende were a huge part of my life, even my mother sincerely believed in all of it and you can be certain I did, and in some cases still do. I meant what I said when I have told you that if it wasn't for men like you, we would not even be here. It is also another reason I hated you, because even though you wore the runes of the SS, I always suspected what your true sympathies were, that it took the Hauptsturmfuhrer to reveal what we had all suspected for so long tells me something about how you managed to stay hidden all that time."

"Have you ever considered that the enemy was just as good if not better than us Blitz?" asked Friedrich sharply.

Instead of glaring at him or looking at him sullenly, she smiled slightly "The Major told me more than a few times after you became a vampire just what you had said to him when you, how does he put it?, showed him the way to happiness. You said that although the Major had been captured he had nothing to be ashamed of, he had done his duty as well as he could have, in some cases the enemy would be stronger than we were and we would be defeated if we assumed they were inferior. Something like that." It wasn't what Friedrich had said exactly, but never mind. She went on "I've known some enemies who were worthy but man for man we were stronger than them, usually. I've even had time to read that book you brought back once _Fighting Power _that proves we were better. In any case the Nazi Party offered militant action, actual solutions against those who had destroyed my father and my family. I eagerly helped my father prepare himself for the rallies of the Party. I worshipped Adolf Hitler, the man with a singular, new, genius vision who would see Germany uplifted beyond all others in the world."

"What changed all that?" asked Friedrich.

"It just began to seem pointless, silly and non-sensical after a while. We seemed to have such great success. True the people we faced would occasionally kill us, fight doggedly, but ultimately pathetically, we would win and our status as the predestined superior race seemed assured. I have to admit the presence of doubters such as you, in the SS, was not pleasant, after the first contact with war, the first wound, seeing their insides for the first time, watching the life run out of them, men would come back different, more bitter and less sure of themselves or what we were doing. In the weakness of their flesh they saw how insignificant and vulnerable they were, so fragile despite the muscles they had built up, their tolerance, acceptance even of killing brutally and mercilessly. One Russian or whatever could in an instant destroy their superior body and brain, and often kill more of us. Such contradictions I expected to be validated by _ende sieg_ but that never came about, instead it became ever clearer that we had lost the war and nothing we would ever do would change that."

"I don't suppose you know I was at Stalingrad?" asked Blitz.

"No I didn't though I did know that a _Wehrwolf_ unit was in Stalingrad to hunt snipers. That you were there does not surprise me, although I would have thought you were busy murdering peasants in the rear. What does this have to do with my misogynistic outburst?"

"Has anyone ever told you Obersturmfuhrer Craebel that you always appear to be smug and superior even to superior officers?" asked Blitz, cocking her tattooed eyebrow and with a hint of threat.

"Yes, many times" responded Friedrich "I have no interest that it is so, nor do I intend to modifiy, if it hadn't been for people like your father we would still be in Germany, maybe even dead warm in our beds, with loving families. If it hadn't been for you, the Nazis would never have destroyed everything I had ever believed in, we could have had a chance to dominate Europe through showing leadership and…" he stopped seeing her glare "Not that you would ever have the faintest idea of what I am talking about Blitz you aren't particularly well read, or if you are you have simply seen the words and memorized them without internalizing them really, not really seeing what you want out of life, just believing…" he stopped again as she tapped her scythe.

"This is what I mean, but I always forgave it instead of doing what I should have done and executing you." She smiled wryly "You always made up for it somewhat, even your cowardice with your competence. Anyway the story is that I and my unit came into the city, like so many weathered, experienced, hardened, but competent in our professionalism, experience, and superior training. We came out far fewer." She grimaced and looked ever so perturbed "those were good men I lost there, not all due to snipers." She smiled cruelly "I loved killing the female ones for what they had done, so smug and sure of themselves, firing from hidden, distant places, only to find themselves cornered and quite helpless against us. Either I would slowly kill her, beat her to death, or crush her beneath my boots." She smiled showing him teeth and her eyes lit up with insanity, power and even lust, Friedrich could understand that it was her memories not him that stirred those feelings in her. "Actually my favorite part was crippling her and leaving her to my men, hearing their screams oh how I wish I could do it all again!"

"No female solidarity?" asked Friedrich blandly. He was both horrified by what must have happened and amused. To have the tables turned so gruesomely on those snipers, to be completely stripped of their dignity in their final moments and for them to be faced with remorseless killers, to die alone like that, it brought a warm feeling (which was strange for a vampire) to his body and a smile to his face.

"No, they killed my men, they thought they could get away with it and I like crushing people, completely and utterly, leaving their souls empty, giving them hope just before they die only to snatch it and so much more away from them, surely even you can appreciate that?"

"Indeed I can Blitz" he responded "despite what you may think I wish I was there. I really found myself, especially after Babi Yar, coming to accept rape and even finding it amusing, though I never did it, sex disgusts me, maybe that too is due to Babi Yar. Anyway, your story, horrifying as it is, amuses me to no end, I didn't even mind it when I, on intelligence gathering missions as a" he chuckled at the irony "lone _bat_" saw the Russians exact their revenge on us, how wonderful it was to watch German women discover just what their men had been up to and to be returned to them so brutally!" he breathed in deeply. "It was especially a delight" he exclaimed "to see them sob then cut their wrists with broken glass or even a butter knife and to see the shattered remains of their family try and save them or better still not have the energy or care to even do so!" his eyes were still their natural color but they gleamed and swirled with madness.

Blitz smiled "I don't see why you didn't show more of this side Friedrich, I like it."

"What does this have to do with my outburst though?" asked Friedrich.

"Little besides the fact that I too liked killing men and it isn't fun to kill ugly men if you know what I mean." Friedrich didn't know and shrugged. "Well if you think about it the rage is that much more pronounced and animal when the deed is done, the act so much more depraved, in a way, but also more loving, in a way." Friedrich squinted in confusion "It's their looks" she explained "that make them worth killing. I once found myself facing this huge Russian, stereotype I know but he was, and there were plenty of short ones, but this one" she smirked "he was special."

"I had been separated from my unit, it was night as well, but a full moon, you could hear the explosions and gunfire not a hundred yards away as some Regular Army weaklings fought some Soviets, I'm not sure who was attacking, who knew in that city, who knew what anything was. Yes, but" she smiled "I was of course creeping along, its October, its cool for that time of year, but I was incredibly thirsty, I didn't have any water, and the dust from the destroyed city was clinging to the back of my throat, making a mockery of the little saliva I was swallowing, I had to get something to drink. I took cover and searched through dead corpses, looking for fresh ones for non-stagnant water. I drank one half of a canteen but I needed more, it was when I was going for a Russian corpse that he shot at me."

"I took cover and then charged to another to draw his fire. He was just on the landing above me and I didn't have any grenades. I did what I usually do, fired to keep him suppressed then charged up, I fired into the room and burst in, he then tackled me from the side, my helmet fell off, he heard me cry out in anger and rage and as I grappled with him…our eyes met. I think he was astonished to see a woman wearing the runes of the SS. I…" she smiled with irony and disappointment "I liked the look of him. It was the longest hand to hand fight I've ever had, we clubbed each other, slashed each other with knives and each time one of us would get the advantage, we would smile at the other. I think the position of dominance changed so much because just as we were about to win, we got distracted by our attraction to the other." She sighed dreamily and Friedrich rubbed his eyes wearily and shook his head. "Eventually I won in that contest, he was wounded badly enough that he and I knew he was going to die, but slowly, very slowly and I wasn't doing too well either. I could have killed him but I didn't see the point. So I sat there looking at him and him at me. I still don't know a word of Russian, and I don't think he knew any German but even so there was a connection. We both reached out to kiss each other at the same time and I began crying, I'll admit that much, it's hard for me to kill men when you can see their faces. Also it was pathetic, the only man I'd had, ever, up to that point was the Captain and I liked this one enough to give him a last earthly pleasure before he went, but I felt ashamed afterward and I still am not sure why. Maybe it's because my first man, if that can be counted was a Turkish werewolf and the other was a Russian who I had just mortally wounded."

"Truly Blitz you are a strange person, and I standby what I've said about you. That being said you have been with us since" he smirked "the beginning, remember those days?"

Blitz smiled.


	20. Chapter 20

Friedrich had gone over to the Major, in that hospital. He saw in his mind's eye as he moved toward his commanding officer, the downtrodden look of self-loathing on the Captain's face, Rip Van was crying, and Zorin was hissing in pain. The Major was sat, in his shirt and trousers, hunched over on the bed looking out the window. Friedrich came to his side, standing to the right and just behind the Major. He reached out a gloved hand but didn't touch him "Herr Sturmbannfuhrer?" he asked worriedly. He knew that he felt empty, indescribable, after last night. It was all the stranger because he didn't seem to feel anything one way or the other as if all emotion seemed to have been burned out of him.

To his astonishment the Major turned his head _that _smirk on his face, his eyes half concealed by the light of the gray day reflecting off of his spectacles his honey eyes swirled in delight "Ah Herr Craebel I'm so happy to see you are alright, how are the others?"

His warmth, his normality caught Friedrich off guard, and yet there was something different in his voice, something that had never gone away, something that had changed since between last night and this moment. At the time Friedrich had been frightened, he didn't know what it was, but he soon came to understand, it was knowledge, happiness even, a sense of having discovered the true meaning of life, of finally knowing how the world was supposed to be. The Major was at peace but only truly in combat, in war, and in the general atmosphere of it. But at the time Friedrich hadn't sensed this, he wondered instead if he was dreaming, if perhaps he had died, was this hell or purgatory? Did he believe in that anymore even? "The others are, I suppose alright sir, and apparently the two women have some sort of tearing. We've all been promoted and the Hauptsturmfuhrer doesn't look very happy, he looks miserable in fact."

The Major closed his eyes and the smirk turned to a placid expression "Tell me then Obersturmfuhrer Craebel, and I am pleased I can call you that, how do you feel? Hung-over? Guilty? Suicidal?"

Friedrich thought for a moment, he straightened his glasses "I feel absolutely fine sir" and it was the truth, it wasn't a lie, he remembered everything he had done and what had happened last night and his probable hallucination. He felt no need to grab any of the surgical implements and end it all, he felt quiet in fact, like he was at peace, why? It was troubling and he frowned at this.

"You are the one Friedrich who began to show me how to live life the way it should be lived and to see life the way it should be seen and to not subscribe too much to conventional ideas, especially ones of extreme individualism, inherent superiority" he chuckled in a then unfamiliar way "but we are digressing Herr Craebel, there is much to be done." He stood up grabbed his Feldgrau jacket, both he and Friedrich were still Grossdeutschland, they had only become SS immediately before the invasion of the Soviet Union. They had taken part in the atrocities of the Einsatzgruppen. "It is rare for VT SS to get into combat so much as you and I have Friedrich" he said as he finished buttoning his top button and smoothing out his hair. "You and I should go get something to eat" he said as he stuffed his gloves in his pockets then smoothed it out "then we need to wait for the now Hauptsturmfuhrer to join us for a special train to meet" he grinned "the Fuhrer!"

Friedrich made a choking noise his face froze up, his eyes bulged out and he took a step back "Adolf Hitler?" asked Friedrich incredulously "Herr Haupt…sorry, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer when did you get this news? What are we wanted for?"

"Let me explain, but for now let us go get something to eat." The Major put on his cap and walked past Friedrich. Friedrich followed him. The Major looked into the wing where the Captain was at Rip Van's side. Friedrich heard him say "I wouldn't have hurt you had I been in control of myself." Rip Van was cradling herself and sobbing in pain. Blitz was being attended by a nurse. Friedrich looked in blankly, and the Major smirked and waved his hand at them and they marched past. They faded out of the vision of the Dok, Rip Van, the Captain and Blitz. "The First thing we should do is eat, then get our weapons from wherever they are in this building." Friedrich marched just behind him, when the Major turned to look at him, the Major smirked at him "Do you know what time it is Herr Craebel?"

"No Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" responded Friedrich.

"It is already two o'clock in the afternoon and I have been awake a full hour before you."

Friedrich hissed "I'm so sorry Herr…"

"Nonsense" said the Major putting up his hand "We all got drunk last night, you no worse than anyone else, in fact all that water you drank saved you, even if they were flushing your stomach, so I'm told. They did the same to me, but I really cannot tell if it happened for truly I feel fine." He looked forward again as they walked in the direction of the canteen, following the signs "No more than fine, I feel happy."

They ate sitting across from one another, it was a strangely calm meal. Such tranquility and not like the first meal Friedrich had eaten, in the field near some nameless Polish village where he knew he had killed someone and had watched the two men die. He even thought at the time that he himself had felt the thud of the bullet, the dull brain, the organic matter that had never been separated never had anything like that happen to it before, leaving his body and yet somehow he could still feel it. Again it had only been after he had collected himself and eaten that he had felt guilty, at the time he had, almost fearlessly carried on with his duty. Friedrich this time was not zealous or ravenous in eating, he was just recovering from an ill-advised alcohol binge after all, and so was the Major, but both men ate their entire plates.

After the meal it was to the Armory where they signed off on their weapons. Both men reclaimed their Walthers and MP-40s, ensuring to do safety checks on them. All this time, the bits of the conversation variously being over the meal and the time in the armory. "Did I ever have the good manners to tell you that I have been a member of the Thule Society since my 18th birthday Herr Craebel?" the Major had asked.

"You mean the Occult nut jobs who believe in Ragnarok, Thor, undead corpses, ghosts, summoning demons, conjuring black magic from intricate circles sometimes carved into human flesh with a knife or in granite with mason work? You cannot be serious Herr Sturmbannfuhrer!" exclaimed Friedrich.

"Friedrich" the Major had said calmly "You forget, until that day in France I was a devoted Nazi, I believed it all. I believed in my natural superiority to you because I had blond hair and devoted myself to boxing as the Fuhrer commanded, you on the other hand got yourself 'transferred down' to _Grossdeutschland_ because of your refusal to practice boxing or go shirtless on exercises whereas I believed that it was showing off my masculine…" the Major had broken down laughing pounding the table with his fist at the ludicrousness of it all. "Truly Friedrich only an artist, one with flighty romanticism and delusions of aesthetic beauty could come up with that one. It's just like you said." He had giggled some more then went on. "I also believed in all the Nordic myths and…" there was a malicious knowing gleam in his eye "I can promise you Friedrich very little of it is fantasy."

"I'm sorry Herr Sturmbannfuhrer?"

"Tell me Friedrich, have you ever read Abraham Stoker's novel _Dracula?" _the Major asked.

"I seem to recall sir I read it when I had nothing else to do and I can't say I found it to be particularly entertaining or frightening" responded Friedrich "are you saying that the Thule Society uses that rubbish instead of some patterns drawn in a yellowing book to theorize about vampires Herr Sturmbannfuhrer? That group is more foolish than I thought."

The Major sighed and shook his head chuckling slightly. It was gentle, indulgent and yet unnerving, it suggested _knowledge_ and above all that you had no idea what you were in for. Indeed Friedrich had not been "Ah you are correct that our principle study material comes from those ancient texts, mercifully it is no longer required for membership that you know how to translate them. However that novel, all of its mediocrities and infantile Victorian fright about women aside, it is unfortunately the only source we have on the vampire king himself and the accounts of any humans who survived contact with him." The look of shock and disbelief was readily discernible on Friedrich's face. The unnerving certainty of the Major, his changed attitude, apparently orders to meet the Fuhrer, all of it was pushing out Babi Yar, beyond the normal horrors of war and opening up something much more terrifying. "Yes indeed Obersturmfuhrer the Vampire king himself exists, and yes you heard me correctly exists, for Dracula did not die in that snowy Carpathian pass! He appeared to fade into dust, but that was only a distraction for those present, do you really think one such as he, with such history, and such a long time, who could do all those things that Abraham Van Helsing laid out really be so vulnerable as to not be able to defend himself when his very existence depended upon it? No! No that one is far more devious and more importantly, something else is at stake. Have you ever heard of the Royal Order of Protestant Knights Obersturmfuhrer?"

"No, no sir, what on earth is that?"

"Ah indeed what on earth, for they, that is this 'order' deal with things which are not thought possible to exist on this earth except in the fevered dreams of frightened children and mad men. They are somewhat like the Thule Society, but whereas, until I received this telegram from the Fuhrer in Greece, yes I said Greece, we have only had feverish imaginations of what they might do, and for us being able to do what we long have suspected they do do." He looked up the glare of the lights leaving his glasses to reveal his knowledgeable, happy, insane swirling honey eyes. "Obersturmfuhrer Craebel I wonder if you feared the vampire when you were young, perhaps a young child, afraid of it coming to bite you. I am onto something or was it just me?"

"No sir" said Friedrich "When I was young, I was told my, well an associate, I haven't really ever had friends, that if you were bitten by a female vampire and were a virgin, you would become a vampire yourself, if you were bitten by a male, you would become a mindless zombie that would devour any living flesh. I was scared of both, both because the woman biting me seemed anathema compared to my mother and…"

The Major held up a hand to stop him "And you spent sleepless nights crying, wondering if at any moment a shadow or not even a shadow would, without warning, appear and you would be defenseless. Do not worry Friedrich I too did that when I was young. However what puzzles me is how children learn such things for…" he looked up "that much about vampires is true. So much else is fiction."

"Wait a minute sir, are vampires real or fictitious then?" asked Friedrich, he still couldn't believe it, but part of him believed that if the Major believed it, then it must be so.

"Very real Obersturmfuhrer, very real, so is much else in fiction that you would not have believed possible. Indeed it is hard to believe, but yes where was I? Ah yes The Royal Order of Protestant Knights otherwise known as Hellsing."

"Helsing sir? As in the protagonist from _Dracula_?"

"Not quite Obersturmfuhrer Hellsing as in Hell sing, which is what the family changed its name to after their encounter with the Count all those years ago. You see while everyone else was celebrating their victory over a many hundred year demon, Abraham Helsing had a fear that the Count was in fact not dead. Although Mina Harker, as you may or may not remember from the book, had stopped turning into a vampire, none of the signs were receding, she was in affect frozen. At first the members of the group that had supposedly killed the Count thought it would go away, as soon as they had buried the American, Quincy. However Abraham was very, very paranoid and he knew the most about the nosferatu. He sped away the night before they left Romania. He made his way to Castle Dracula and what did he find? But the count himself, weakened, but very much undead. What happened next nobody knows for sure and the one alive who still knows will not tell us nicely and probably wouldn't even tell us if he were about to kill us, which he has great capacity to do. Some details are clear. Abraham Hellsing defeated Dracula and probably some henchmen, whether or not they were undead nobody knows for certain. What is also clear, from the observations of Graf von Brühle written in his _Journeys in the Carpathians_ which is available only to members of the Thule society in clubs, for they may not bring it home, is that Abraham van Helsing must have had access to magic and many more holy artifacts than he let on for Castle Dracula's lands were put to ruin and there was a crop of garlic surrounding the castle itself, more than that, an unusual abundance of the sealing marks and holy symbols were present, in effect making the place uninhabitable for vampires, every conceivable entrance had crosses of the best possible quality, along with rosary beads hanging in them, but what of the Count himself? I do not mean Hans von Brühle of course. There was no trace, no trace, save for what we do know or at least suspect, it is impossible to confirm."

Friedrich was now eager to learn more about the story but also fearful, fearful of where this was taking him. Even though he had seen and done many horrible things in the past two years, this more than anything else scared him, nowhere were you safe, things really did go bump in the night and now, he guessed, they would be going where they lived.

The Major went on now between mouthfuls of food, as Friedrich ate and listened "You may or may not remember Jonathan Harker's diary entry, that is after he escaped from Castle Dracula, seeing the Count on the streets of London, intensely regarding a beautiful woman. You may or may not remember the physical description of the more youthful Count which Harker gives and indeed, it must be clear to someone of such intellect as yours, he did actually give it. I'm sorry I'm not staying on topic, what had prompted von Brühle's trip to the Carpathians was wandering the streets of London, in 1924, and seeing a man who matched the Count's description exactly and who wore an odd set of white gloves, with what appeared to be an occult seal on one of them. The Graf took a photograph, but due to a mysterious need to "quarantine" certain items, he was not allowed out of the country with it. He did have the foresight to sketch down some approximate details of it. From what we have gathered, the pentagram in a circle, typically denotes a doorway or an access to something that humans normally do have or cannot fathom. After visiting Castle Dracula, and seeing this man in the street, the Graf had good reason to believe the man he had seen was in fact Count Dracula." Friedrich wondered how this could be, this all seemed very unrelated.

He did not doubt his commander. The Major, after his 'renewal' in France had set about what seemed to be tactical and strategic madness, yet he had always been proved right and unlike most successful SS commanders he was not reckless or even particularly aggressive, but methodical and constant, never letting the pressure up on the enemy, never breaking momentum when in attack as long as it could be helped and always somehow minimizing casualties while inflicting maximum damage on the enemy. Friedrich would have thought that having two platoons of _Grossdeutschland_ (even though they were in an Army unit they had been made SS Verfügungstruppe in March 1941 but were exceptions to the rule as the SS spread its sinister diseased tentacles into the German _Heer) _pinned down, purposefully by Greek machine guns was the height of foolishness. However his misery and that of three wounded men (half of the casualties the company incurred in the Greek campaign) were justified by the fact that the act of firing on his men had exposed the gunners to snipers and well aimed shots from 20mm flak guns the Major had brought up to fire on the Greeks. Not expecting such a terrible and sudden turn from one of complete superiority to sudden possibility of losing the Greeks had not been able to cope as the soldiers under Friedrich stormed their position, killing some and capturing many more. So he knew that if the Major said this mysterious stranger who he could not really visualize was Count Dracula, it must be so, and even so it was incredible.

"What we made us sure, or at least my father and other members of the Thule Society sure that this was Count Dracula is that in Great Britain, vampires and other creatures of nightmares were swiftly and" he chuckled unsettlingly, yet the chuckle made Friedrich smile and forget everything he had done "brutally. Almost nowhere else did this occur, it does on this continent but only because of the Vatican, a matter which we shall come to later. What better way to tame the monster, to know 'whither the vampire goes' that to own that vampire utterly. That is what we face and of course it is a grave threat to the Reich, but more importantly it presents an opportunity. You see Graf von Brühle did make one discovery, something that could change the course of human history and the nature of warfare forever, something the Reichsfuhrer SS is most keen on and something that could potentially prevent many mothers and fathers in Germany and maybe all over Europe from weeping." Friedrich frowned and the Major smirked and gestured to their cooling meals, indicating that they should finish, which they did.

As they walked to the Armory he continued "Mina Harker's corpse has been missing from its grave since she died a few years after giving birth to a second child in 1907. She also was said to become even more beautiful in death, you and I both know what that means."

"Ah yes because Lucy Westenra was said to become more beautiful when she died the first time, so who killed Mrs. Harker's second life?" asked Friedrich.

"We do not know, again, whatever the case, no trace of her was found since she died and her husband to this day refuses to speak to anyone about his wife. What if, since the Count was not killed but merely subjugated, she was in fact merely halted in her development as a nosferatu? Where would such a place be so as to bury the shame of it all, someplace no one would bother to look? The very place where her husband met the Count of course."

They had to go through normal procedures to get their weapons checked out and were of course obediently silent throughout the entire thing, unless speaking was required such as stating "This weapon is clear." When they were done and both had gotten back their MP-40s and Walther pistols they resumed talking "It is now time for me to tell you something even I was not aware of. You of course are by now familiar with the now Hauptsturmfuhrer. You even tried to stop him from executing Soviet prisoners of war. For that I had to expend much effort keeping secret, but this is even more secret and cannot be known by anyone, for if it is, all will be undone, by the very thing we are trying to emulate and destroy. The Hauptsturmfuhrer is not entirely human." Friedrich wondered if this was a reference at first to merely his cold hearted, methodical, intense way of killing, or his great strength or speed, but given what they had been discussing Friedrich doubted it. "I say not entirely human because as you showed me those weeks in France and as I came to rediscover, all human beings are one race and the Hauptsturmfuhrer has many of the same physical qualities of a human being and all the emotions, yet even though he may be _Werwolf_ he is in reality a werewolf, a lycanthrope, like those of legend, except unlike in legend they can control their behavior and can only change in wolf form at the five fullest days of the moon. The second thing is that as you may or may not have noticed he has naturally dark skin."

"I had indeed noticed that sir, but given that he was in the SS and has such light blond hair, I merely assumed he had been given some extended leave on a beach somewhere" remarked Friedrich, trusting entirely in what he was hearing about the Hauptsturmfuhrer, only curious as to the exact details. "Where then was he found, how did he get to be in the SS? Furthermore if he is not a German then what is he?" asked Friedrich.

"The man you know as Hans Günsche, who you may or may not have noted has never mentioned family or where he was born, is actually Pasha Omar Hussein Akbulut, a descendant of Jannissaries and some mixing. Ethnically, as I understand it he is half German and half Turkish. I think in some war against the turks the buxom blond wife of an officer was captured, that is the mother of the man you know. Initially I thought, infected with the idiocies of National Socialism, that the Turks were of course an inferior race, who further committed slander by forcing better European stock into their blood, however that one of them can look, naturally, like the Hauptsturmfuhrer is evidence of strength from diversity, explaining how even at their most sickly they fought tenaciously, well and were the worthiest of our allies in the previous war. The Haupsturmfuhrer, I learned from my associates in the Thule Society who introduced me to him, was turned when he was separated from his unit in the Crimean War. As you may or may not know Obersturmfuhrer Craebel, Lycanthropes and vampires are opposed to one another, irreconcilably perhaps, but vampires and the murderous tendancies of those who usually become lycanthropes have skewed our 'preferences' in favor of the former. It is assumed vampires can be reasoned with, it is rarely the case. Both tend to become self-absorbed, over confident and narcissistic with power. Fortunately for us the Hauptsturmfuhrer is an exception. One becomes a lycanthrope when one is bitten by one and the only treatment is the bite of a vampire of the opposite sex with seventy two hours of being bitten, otherwise you are doomed forever more to walk the earth as such. However" the Major said as they walked back toward where the four others were, Rip Van, the Captain, Zorin, and the Dok "I will let him tell the story in his own words, on the train to Berlin of course, with all of us listening, for I myself have not heard all of it."

They first secured their weapons in the Major's Kubelwagen and walked back to the hospital room where they had been. Both the Major and Friedrich stood in the doorway to the wing where the Captain was now back in his bed, to the rear of Friedrich and the Major and the two women were both eating some sort of meal of mashed potatoes, carrots and spinach. Rip Van had stopped crying and instead looked forlorn, Blitz was scarfing down her meal and the Doktor was taking notes. Friedrich heard the Hauptsturmfuhrer saying "Oh dear God I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, oh God I'm sorry, Oh god what…" Friedrich smirked as had the Major when they heard this, maybe the Major wasn't thinking the same thing as Friedrich, that he deserved to be punished for daring to try and drown his guilt with depressants and procreation when no amount of procreation he could possibly do could undo what they had done, far less so with two of the condemned.

Despite their short statures, the Major's and Friedrich's glasses, the shining deaths head, the Feldgrau combat gloves on their hands, and blackness of their boots, above all their knowing, malicious, depraved and insane smirks gave them an unnerving sinister edge. That was how both Rip Van and the Hauptsturmfuhrer described it later. Before the Major had even spoken, Friedrich sensed, given all he had heard what the Major would need. "Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer, sit on the bed opposite Obersturmfuhrer Blitz, the Sturmbannfuhrer needs your undivided attention."

Even though he was a superior officer to Friedrich, so shocked, shamed and low was the Hauptsturmfuhrer at this point that he obeyed. The Major nodded his thanks to Friedrich. "Meine Damen und Herren" he began and so was born the Millennium Battalion. None of them believed it. Even the Hauptsturmfuhrer looked up from his dejected state, in disbelief at the two smirking officers, who had so quickly recovered and seemed to revel in what had happened. Blitz had spilled her meal and cursed, then stopped when both the Major and Friedrich chuckled and shook their heads in disapproval at her lack of control. "For reasons of Ideology of course, neither of you women can be presented as part of my core working group before the Fuhrer, but we are all to travel to Berlin by special train where all of you, including Obersturmfuhrer Craebel must catch up on the Occult, especially vampires and the humans who deal with them, you are about to enter a world you thought never existed and indeed one which I though familiar with, have never been in myself. Our lives will never be the same again."

He also told the truth about the Hauptsturmfuhrer, Blitz looked at both the Major and Friedrich as if they were insane, had the killings really affected them that deeply that they woke up delusional, suddenly with recessive genes that meant they could infect the German race if they bred? Rip Van seemed to recognize that it was the truth, she shrunk back, a choking, disgusted noise emitting from her mouth, the Hauptsturmfuhrer simply sat looking dejected and said "It is true. What they say of me is true, I am in fact a monster not a human being."

"Come now my dear Hauptsturmfuhrer, you can control when you are a werewolf, at least so I am told, you are a warm blooded, emotional being that doesn't seek out human company for food and has normal functional relations with human beings, for all intents and purposes, you are human, you have essentially the anatomy of one in your current state and the emotions of one. The same cannot always be said for a vampire, who by its very nature sees humans as food, that it could be otherwise only occurs in extraordinary circumstances." The Major said this smiling warmly, his head tilted up slightly toward the ceiling. He turned and smirked at Rip Van "What wrong? You are afraid you've lost your virginity to an animal, that you may be impregnated with demon children which will rip you apart from the insides? Do not worry Frau Winkler there is no biological possibility of a zygote even fertilizing anything, all supernatural creatures cannot reproduce amongst themselves, at least not in a way we know of, and you two are hardly the first to have intercourse with a werewolf and come out alive."

Blitz absentmindedly speared her food and Rip Van looked relieved if frightened. Friedrich knew how to break the ice "In any case we shall require that we have a select group of men with us when we travel" he turned to Blitz "Obersturmfuhrer Blitz, please get yourself dressed as soon as you are done eating."


	21. Chapter 21

_I apologize for the three year hiatus, but I was busy with other things, my inspiration failed me. In those three years I have once been accused of being a Nazi for seeing Millennium in a more sympathetic light. I really cannot stress enough that if Millennium were ideologically Nazis I would have no time for them. And lest anyone say my username indicate any pro-Nazi or even any pro-German tendencies I want to point out that Halder was put in a concentration camp, and was found nearly starved to death by the allies. He, unlike most, paid the price for his crimes. _

The Major had given the Doktor orders to implant a chip in the test subjects. He wanted to watch and see Alucard. First the priest, then that stupid would be Bonnie and Clyde murdering couple, then the others, all killed, so easily, so easily, as any of his men might be by that monster and freak. Then, at last a delightful clash between Hellsing and the Vatican, in Northern Ireland no less, just as he had hoped. His veterans, his dear battalion, his fellow soldiers, his fellow warriors, that was warriors in the sense of those who waged and lived for war. His men were so much more than warriors. They were men, and women of course, broken and remade on the battlefield. All had been made to see the truth. A smirk returned to his face, ah yes, the truth, now did that not say so much about himself, about their situation, about what the Major, the man who was once Ruprecht Gunther Onsdorf, knew.

The truth. The truth. Part of that truth was what he could see, in his mind's eye as the Valentine brothers walked, on a grey and overcast day toward Hellsing Manor.

The slaughter commenced with abandon and despite its success and the skill of both brothers and their excellent choice in equipment he could see the assault was doomed to fail. But he got to see his enemy before the enemy saw him and that pleased the Major enormously. Such an advantage in war and in every battle meant that the enemy would suffer an extremely unpleasant reverse. Just as Alucard devoured the elder Valentine's soul, the Major smirked and exclaimed within his mind, in a voice that was far louder and excitable than his normal one, 'I have you!'

"Oh Friedrich!" called out the Major to his subordinate and friend. Friedrich was conferring with the NCOs in his platoon. The taller, yet still short man turned and around and gave a victory salute along with the rest of the NCOs.

"Herr Sturmbannfuhrer!" they said with a loud exclamation.

The Major waved them down. "Gentlemen, you are dismissed the Obersturmfuhrer and I have something to discuss." The men saluted again without a word, about turned and left chatting among themselves.

Friedrich stood at attention "Yes sir?" he inquired.

The Major had been looking at Friedrich's boots and suddenly looked up at his face, a smug smirk on his pudgy face "I need some help, a man who can walk in the light whereas other must walk in the dark. I have received some curious information from the Doktor and his friend, our friend, the one we made a vow to in Warsaw."

Friedrich who had looked impassive before suddenly had a mad look in his eye, and an insane smile came to his face. His voice was the same as it was when he had showed the Major the way back in France, it was the same voice as Friedrich always had when he knew the answer to anything that might come.

"I gather sir that the Vatican and Hellsing must come to grips over Ireland and negotiate? Oh my how interesting this shall be sir!" he said, and chuckled in a way most people would have found disturbing but one which the Major found uplifting. "How delightful!" Friedrich added.

"Oh yes" the Major said bringing up his hand in front of his face, clenching it tight into a fist in triumph "I have never been to England before, but you have and I need a guide, especially around the Imperial _War _Musuem. Pack your bags Friedrich we are going on a relaxing business trip."

Friedrich was dressed in a tan three piece suit and wearing a pith helmet, making him feel like some ridiculous Imperial German Administrator in the middle of Tanzania. His hand came up from under his nose, lifting up his glasses whereupon he stroked his nose with stress and embarrassment. Meanwhile the Captain was shirtless in the hot day. The Major was a single breasted white suit and for once did not have an overcoat or gloves and he too had a pith helmet. "We look like we don't even belong to the 1940s, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" Friedrich said with embarrassment, but what he was really wondering was, why was the Hauptsturmfuhrer shirtless?! Why?

"Well" said the Major, anticipating his thoughts perfectly "our dear Haupsturmfuhrer can just barely pass for a native, and we are going for authenticity here my dear friend."

Friedrich sighed and winced "whatever you say sir."

From there it was only a little way to the airfield once the Hauptsturmfuhrer had dropped them off. They had found a private jet waiting and boarded it. The staff on the plane did not know who they were, thinking them to be two young German entrepreneurs with a lot of money to throw about going to England. The Major had settled in and begun drinking Schnapps , while Friedrich had started with Russian vodka and a shot class. "Why Vodka Friedrich?" the Major asked, but he knew the answer before Friedrich knew it.

Friedrich thought about the reason why, and he could not help but going back to Berlin, 1954. "I am thinking of her sir" he responded, and drunk another shot. "She would be happy to know her country was generating an export, at least I think she would."

The Major chuckled unsettlingly and Friedrich glanced over, a dull expression on his face "Think? Think Friedrich? You might think, but I know" he said smugly.

Now Friedrich was curious, and a bit scared by the thought that came to his head "Know sir?", there was just a bit of panic in his voice.

"You will see soon enough Friedrich." The Major told him.

They had had to land at Heathrow where the confusion would be such that no one would be able to tell who had landed or not. By that time, the Major had changed back into his accustomed dress and Friedrich was wearing a two piece dark grey suit, the Jacket had three buttons as was Friedrich's preference. Friedrich was wearing a dark grey Trilby hat while the Major wore, bizarrely enough, what was probably the only White Homburg in the entire world.

As they were EU citizens, nominally from their forged passports anyway, they were waved through immigration and since they had nothing to declare there were no problems with customs but Friedrich expected, at any moment, to see a broad brimmed red hat, a sweeping blood red greatcoat, orange tinged sunglasses, the end.

Instead all they did was collect their baggage and get in a taxi to go to the hotel in Knightsbridge where they were simply two respectable businessmen checking in on their company's account and then they proceeded upstairs. The Major unpacked but Friedrich did not dare. "Now then sir" he asked of his superior "what are we doing tonight and when are we meeting the Doktor?"

The Major looked back, he was in the process of hanging up his dark gray business suit and changing into his customary white double breasted suit "Well Friedrich, it appears, according to you know who that there will be a meeting of sorts between the Vatican and Hellsing in the Imperial War Museuem, tomorrow and we will be there."

Friedrich swallowed audibly and visibly "But sir, Alucard will doubtless be there, won't he…"

The Major cut him off "Do not worry my dear Obersturmfuhrer, I am doubly sure, given what we know happened in Ireland, that the Vatican will be providing too much of a distraction for them to notice. What I would be more concerned about if I were you was Director Integra Hellsing" he seemed to brighten at the mention of a name neither of them had met, "and the novice Seras Victoria." He chuckled. "That last one will prove to be especially dangerous I am sure."

Friedrich sighed "Sir, I was cited for my ruthlessness in Yugoslavia and even in …" he looked away in shame "France." He looked up again. "You won't need to convince me Sir that the proper way to deal with a female adversary is to be even more ruthless than you would with a male enemy." Friedrich had no emotional connection to Yugoslavia and so cared less about the awful things he had done. But he spoke French, had been on holiday in France, respected France, thought the French a great people but still had done horrendous things. It was uncomfortable, it was yet another reminder for him that even as he hated the Nazis, what he also hated just as much, was himself.

The Major nodded, even seeming just ever so chastened "quite right, of course, yes, yes of course. But you are you, some of the men, despite their experiences, still have some not so helpful ideas of what women are like in a fight. Still less helpful they believe in being a bit more gallant with female opponents." He brightened up again, that knowing insane smirk back on his face "but you and I are great believers in gender equality."

Friedrich had then proceeded to undress himself, and then unnecessarily go take a shower, then take a nap. By the time he woke up, the light was fading. The Major too was asleep. Here Friedrich saw that the Major was not sleeping easily. The Major looked restless, like something was troubling him and he squirmed as if having a bad dream.

Suddenly the Major sat up and smiled. Friedrich jumped up wordlessly in fright but there was clearly terror on his face. The Major said "you cannot die!"

"I am sorry sir?" asked Freidrich, his words becoming less panicked with each syllable as his fright receded.

The Major shook his head "my goodness, in good time, all will be known, for now I feel like some tea in a war museum. If we move now we should make it just after the two guard dogs of Hellsing, Alucard and Seras Victoria have completed their sweep of the premises. Leave your hat here Friedrich, we need to be inconspicuous."

As always the Major had planned it perfectly. By the time they arrived and the Major had finished ordering his tea Director Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing and Bishop Enrico Maxwell were walking towards teach other, or so the Major said. From where they were sitting in the café Friedrich had no dea how the Major could tell. Friedrich looked up when he saw footsteps to see the Dok come in, for some reason still wearing his bizarre glasses, which could only make him stand out. "Good to see you here sir" the Doktor said to the Major.

"Please be seated Dok" said the Major, using one of his legs to push a metal chair away from the table, in an invitation to the Dok. The Dok sat next to the Major. Friedrich himself sat three tables away, but the café interior was empty, the Dok had arranged for it, apparently. "How has it been to practice your art again Dok?" asked the Major affably enough as he sipped some tea.

The Dok had an insane smile of his own of course, which bothered Friedrich more than the Major's as it was one of a serial mutilator rather than that of a man who smiled to fill a void that war had created. "Yes sir, it has been most pleasant, sadly all of my subjects were complete idiots, the refuse, the waste product, not even fit to be eaten by ghouls really, but it serves a purpose."

"Indeed" said the Major. He chuckled "oh passive aggressive hostility. Oh my mistake Bishop Maxwell cannot contain it. My my my, the Catholic Church never changes and they dare to call us Godless as some kind of insult. It is their God after all ostensibly telling them to murder people who have different interpretations of the same text and of course they refuse to admit the Bible is the word of Roman politicians not God." He sighed, as he often did when making an observation that seemed obvious but was often unknown or left unsaid, "then again Roman politicians made an empire that gave us European Civilization. What has God given the world?"

Eventually the Major spoke again, his smirk became a little darker, as if he was about to lose his temper "there he is again, after all this time, and none of them know it, none of them. You devil" the Major said, the last word was vituperation and Friedrich straightened in his chair as he knew that meant Alucard was here, on site. "And the Judas priest" said the Major, as if to finish Friedrich's thought or compound his nightmare. Despite his being a vampire, Friedrich's heart began to slowly beat, which is something that only happened when he was terrified and he began to sweat and kept an impassive expression, despite that his eyes showed his raw terror, knowing if Alucard found them or the Judas Priest, there was only the choice of bowing and begging for mercy. He knew it was futile to fight or run.

Yet at the end the Major said "Ah, well done boy, well done" and Friedrich looked a little more at ease in his chair, now sure that he was safer, along with the Dok and the Major than they had been before. Now Friedrich say both Director Integra Hellsing, a beautiful yet austere woman, one of the most terrifying sort of person to him, and Bishop Enrico Maxwell sit down across from each other. They began to talk, and Friedrich was watching them from the corner of his eye. He sipped some tea, and grabbed a newspaper that did not interest him in the slightest to look more inconspicuous, began pretending to read it and asked the Major "what are they saying sir?"

"They are talking about us Obersturmfuhrer" the Major said simply.

Friedrich was not concerned, this had been part of the Major's plan but what Friedrich felt was disgust "they collaborate with us in starting a genocidal war in the Soviet Union to kill Athiests, the Orthodox and the Jews and then they turn on us, I cannot express in words sir my hatred for the Roman Catholic Church" Friedrich said in a mild voice.

"Maxwell just admitted to it with a smile on his face" added the Major.

"Sir, if it were not for Father Anderson and Alucard, plus Seras Victoria I would kill that man right now, possibly with my bare hands. How can one be proud of what the Catholic Church did?" asked with Friedrich, a feeling of righteous indignation coursing through him at the moment. It might have seemed hypocritical, what with him being German and in the SS. However he acknowledged the cognitive dissonances at the heart of his personality, and he also could see that Maxwell, unlike him, was never the sort of person to be haunted by those he had killed.

"It looks like they finally figured it out. They know about Millennium" said the Dok, referring to Maxwell's bragging exposition to the Director of Hellsing.

"Figured it out?" said the Major, addressing no one in particular. They still don't know a thing." Friedrich looked out at the two figures in the sun, then the Dok and the Major and smirked. Indeed neither the Vatican or Hellsing really knew anything and even if they did they would never understand.

"You seem to be enjoying this Major" said the Dok turning to the Major.

"Yes indeed, I am enjoying this moment immensely" said the Major "It is a struggle. Think about it. We are going to have a desperate bloody struggle. Is this not wonderful?" The Major became more wistful. "It is a struggle, a struggle", yet there was something chilling to his words, a chill that made Friedrich smiled warmly.

Later that same day, their mission complete, the three men returned to South America.

Friedrich had seen the _Alfred Rosenberg _lift off and knew that since the Valentine Brothers were dead and that idiot dark skinned slovenly one had given their name away. Now it was a matter of time, events had been set in motion. There was no going back, they would go to England, go to London, go to Alucard. Friedrich had no doubt that it included dying. Dying was inevitable in all things alive and as a vampire who considered himself to be alive, Friedrich felt certain that he would die. The time was nigh. Friedrich watched the airship disappear and he went away to his room, it would be one of his last nights in a bed with his teddy bear. It would be one of his last nights alive as the conflicted guilt ridden war criminal he was. Soon he would be a criminal again and a slight smile came to his face at the thought. He was looking forward to it.

The _Alfred Rosenberg_ took up position within the clouds, 100 miles west of Rio_. _There it waited. Its design was deceptive. It looked exactly like the _Hindenburg _even though it used helium instead of hydrogen. It was outfitted the most modern rocket launch equipment, radar and of course stealth technology. He could sense their approach. All parties were approaching the designated areas just as he had anticipated and just as he thought they would. The spending of the organization had accelerated since 1995 and Zeitzler had been in tears over and over again at the turn of events as their balances ran down. Zeitzler had invested early in the NASDAQ but the gains were never quite enough to cover the expenses. As Zeitzler had come to realize, there was nothing for it, and even his investing in the NASDAQ had, by 1997, become more a vanity project of Zeitzler's than anything else. "I can see there is a bubble!" he said happily "it will burst in January of 2000, the Millennium." Now Zeitzler, Friedrich Craebel, Johan von Gentz and the rest of his beloved battalion of veterans were back in the depths of the Amazon, while he was here watching what was about to happen. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and smiled. The presence, in the depths of the ship of Hauptsturmfuhrer and the Dok was reassuring to him. "Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer, would you kindly bring me a cup of coffee and milk?" The huge man went away. The police were entering the hotel just now... Ah yes, it was all starting. All these years of waiting, at last, at last, no more, no more, no more.


End file.
